Mirrors of Yesterday
by ZaKai
Summary: COMPLETE. 34 year old Edward Elric finds himself standing in a city he thought he’d never see again; in a time that had already come and gone in the distant memories of his past. Eventual RoyEd, Mentions of past EdOC, past platonic HeiEd.
1. Through the Looking Glass

This is a little pet project of mine; something that I worked on for me because I wanted to write it. With the urging of close friends, I'm posting it for you to read. I would also like to thank my beta, **Masamune Reforged** up front for his input and insight.

**Mirrors of Yesterday**

**I**

**Through the Looking Glass**

**-  
**The last thing Ed remembered was turning in time to see the out of control car hit him. He'd tried to jump out of the way, but it had been too late. He remembered falling to the ground and the fuzzy shouts of people yelling for a doctor, remembered the pain and someone kneeling next to him, calling his name... then nothing.

Ed thrust his hands into the deep pockets of his brown trousers and rounded his shoulders a bit. It was cold, but not too cold, and the fact that he was wearing his long brown overcoat helped. He sighed and stared out at the rain from where he was leaning against the side of a building; the awning of the book shop keeping him protected from the downpour.

A car rumbled slowly by and he followed the blurry shape with his eyes until he could no longer see it. The make and model definitely wasn't German. In fact, it looked more like... Ed sucked in his breath and glanced again at this small shop he was standing by. He recognized the shop. He'd seen it several times before, but it had been a long time since then.

A very long time.

The last time Ed had been in East City, he had been sixteen. Amestris was where he'd been born and raised, but it was a place that had only existed in his fading memories and in his deepest dreams for the past eighteen years. It was a place where the science of alchemy was a magic that was real, not just an illusion or a trick of the eye.

Ed watched as a redheaded boy of about eleven or twelve ran through the pouring rain toward the canopy. The boy gasped heavily at having to run and wiped the water out of his eyes. After a moment, he opened the bag he was carrying and took out a newspaper before walking into the bookstore, making the bell on the door jingle. A moment later, the bell rattled again as the same boy came out and yelled a 'you're welcome' back to the shop keeper.

Ed eyed the boy with more interest. The language the kid had used hadn't been German, English, or any of the other European languages he'd grown used to hearing. It had been the language of Amestris, with a heavy eastern accent.

"Boy," Ed said quietly, and was slightly amused to hear the German accent as he spoke his native tongue for the first time in a long time. And to think there had been a time that he'd had an Amestris accent when he spoke German or English...

The paperboy glanced up at him in surprise and said, "Yes, sir?"

"May I see one of your papers; just for a moment?"

The boy ran a hand through his scraggily red hair and said warily, "These are already paid for."

"I'm not going to take it; I just want to see the cover. You could even hold it up for a moment..."

The boy's green eyes flickered away as he considered this suggestion carefully, then fished one of the newspapers out and held it up. Ed ignored the cover story and quickly read the date. He thanked the boy, who stuffed the newspaper back in the bag and ran off.

Ed sighed and looked up at the bright yellow canopy above him. How was it possible that he was here? Not just how was it _possible_, but how did he _get_ here? He tried to focus his mind, tried to think back, but couldn't remember anything after the car hit him. All he knew was that he was standing here and it was raining. He wanted to believe this was a dream, but the hard stone wall he was leaning on seemed real enough and the cold, wet air was certainly real enough to give him a chill.

He pressed his lips together when he thought of the date printed on the newspaper. He'd lived in Germany for eighteen years, but according to the newspaper, he hadn't been gone from Amestris at all. In fact, according to the newspaper, he hadn't even left yet, and wouldn't for almost another year...

Of course, this was all wrong. He remembered coming back through the gate briefly when he was eighteen, so it wasn't as if time could have stood still while he was gone. Time always went on. Even on the other side of the gate he'd lived with his brother for a time and had seen him fall in love, marry, and have children...

Ed sighed and thought of his own wife, now eight years dead. The two years they'd had together had been nice... not great, but okay. But as the saying goes, all things must come to an end. What they'd had... well... they'd had their problems, everyone does, but he _had_ cared for her... He blinked away the sudden tears and tried to think about something else.

One part of Ed supposed he should go somewhere, perhaps get out of the cold, but where would he go? He could go inside the bookstore, but he had no money and wouldn't be able to stay there very long. Another part of him argued that this couldn't possibly be real, so what was the point of going anywhere? Just let this bizarre dream, or phenomenon, or whatever it was, pass on...

Suddenly, the bell jingled again, alerting Ed to someone exiting the shop. He continued to stare out into the rain as he heard a wobbly voice say, "Well, I appreciate your business, and that you actually _pay_ me and not put it on a tab."

There was a chuckle, then, "Of course. I know how the military works. I would hate for you to not be paid for these."

The voice grabbed at him and, as if in a dream, he turned his head to see who was speaking. Standing at the door were two men. An old man stood partially in the shop, his white hair sticking up at odd angles; and a younger man, this one with fine black hair, wearing a military uniform mostly covered by a long, black coat and carrying a neatly wrapped package. Books, Ed guessed, wrapped to protect them from the rain.

"I'll hate to lose your business when you finally get transferred back to Central," the old man said.

The younger man shook his head and laughed easily. "I don't see that happening any time soon."

"If you say so. Be careful out in that rain."

"I will," the military man answered and turned away as the older man gave a small wave and shut the door. The dark-haired man took a step, then stopped suddenly when he saw Ed staring at him.

The two locked eyes for several moments before the military man nodded his head slightly and said politely, "Excuse me. I'm sorry for staring, but you reminded me of someone I know and it startled me."

"Roy Mustang..." Ed said quietly, the name sounding foreign on his tongue. It was the last person he would have expected to see in this dream that seemed not to be a dream. The last time he'd seen the man was when they'd been rushing to save Central, something that wouldn't happen for another three years, if the newspaper was to be believed.

The man's eyebrows knit together slightly in confusion as he said, "Yes, that's right." He paused, then asked in an unsure tone, "Do I know you?"

"I suppose," Ed said, and pushed himself away from the wall. Though he'd never grown to be as tall as he'd have liked, Ed noticed that he was only three or so inches shorter than his ex-commanding officer; a small detail, yet one that didn't escape his notice. "My name is Edward Elric," he said simply.

Ed wasn't sure how _he_ would react in such a situation, but he hoped if he was ever faced with it, that he would be able to keep as much self control as Mustang did. To his credit, the colonel's eyes simply widened and he stared at Ed in disbelief. It was much better than shouting or losing control of his senses. But then, this was Roy Mustang, and Ed remembered the man being able to keep his emotions in check most of the time no matter what the situation.

Tucking the box under his arm, Mustang rubbed his eyes, blinked, and looked at Ed again. "Well..." Mustang said blandly. "They say kids grow up fast, but that's a little too fast for me."

Ed smiled and nodded his head. "Fast for you, slow for me," he said.

"I see." Mustang shifted the package and stared closer at Ed, inspecting him as if this were some sort of trick, and for some reason this struck him as a little... childish? No, that wasn't the word, but simply...

Suddenly, Ed thought again about the date he'd seen on the newspaper. He quickly calculated a few things in his head. His younger self was fifteen right now, wherever he was, and that meant Mustang was... twenty-eight... He blinked. That meant that at thirty-four, Ed was six years older than the other man...

He supposed, years ago, he would have gloated over the fact, but he had mellowed a lot over the years, and now he only felt thoughtful. Ed let his eyes move over Mustang's face. The colonel did seem rather young... younger than he remembered, and that was probably why. Twenty-eight just seemed so... well... _young_...

"I don't think I'll be here very long," Ed said with a small smile at his previous thoughts. "I'm really not sure why I'm here, and it's a long story."

"I have time," Mustang said, eyes still riveted on him.

Ed looked around. "The weather doesn't lend itself to being the type where people idly stand around and chatter."

"You said you won't be here long...?" Mustang asked.

Ed nodded. "That's right; or at least, that's what I believe."

"I see," Mustang murmured thoughtfully, then asked, "Do you have a place to stay?"

Ed raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. Was Mustang offering to take him in? That just seemed so... un-Mustang-like. "No, I don't," Ed responded truthfully.

"Well, you're welcome to stay with me for a few days if you need," the younger man offered slowly, seeming a little unsure with the whole situation, but curious and wanting to know more. Ed studied him thoughtfully for a moment. From what he remembered, Roy Mustang was an arrogant bastard who enjoyed tormenting the hell out of him, but this man...

Ed's eyes narrowed a little. Was this _really_ Roy Mustang? Would the Mustang he knew be so generous and so mild mannered? Or perhaps it had been so long that his memories weren't serving him very well... Perhaps... or maybe his memories couldn't be trusted. After all, he'd only been a kid at the time. But what Ed did know was that he didn't have a place to stay, and right now he was cold and damp...

When Ed nodded, Mustang waved a hand and hurried out into the rain. Bracing himself for the cold torrent, Ed followed after him. They ran for maybe five minutes before the colonel turned and let himself into a large building. When Ed entered, he found himself in a long hallway; the walls lined with doors fixed with numbers.

Ed blinked and wiped the water out of his eyes. It had never occurred to him when he was younger that the colonel might live in an apartment, not in a house. In fact, he'd never thought about it at all.

When they got to the door, Mustang reached up, brushed back his dripping bangs, and ran a hand over his wet face before pulling his keys from his pocket. Unlocking the door, the man let himself inside and beckoned Ed forward. Following after him, Ed shut the door and looked around the small studio apartment as the light was turned on. The apartment itself was old, but it was clean and in good repair. Ed watched as the colonel slipped out of his black overcoat and hung it on a coat rack.

"You can hang your coat up there," Mustang said, indicating the rack.

Ed nodded slowly and slipped his coat off. After hanging it up, he turned, but stopped when he noticed that Mustang was still staring at him. Deciding to try making the situation a little lighter, Ed smiled and put out his hand.

"A little older, and a little taller, but still the same," he said. "But perhaps an introduction is in order anyway."

At this, the colonel shook his head before stepping forward and taking Ed's hand. "Not the same. You're not the same at all." Ed's smile faded at that and they stood there for a moment, hands clasped together, each staring at the other. Finally, Mustang gave his hand a last squeeze and said, "How about something to warm you up? I have tea, coffee..." He paused, then studied Ed for a moment before adding, "Among other things to help warm you up."

Ed smiled faintly and murmured, "I'll take one of the other things."

Mustang nodded and said as he headed to the small kitchen, "Make yourself at home."

Ed waited for a moment, watching the younger man open a cupboard to retrieve two glasses, before wandering to the other part of the apartment. Two large book cases, a small desk with a chair, and a small couch filled the rest of the living space.

He eyed the books and nodded his approval. His fingers itched to pull a few out and read them. It had been so long since he'd read anything on alchemy that wasn't ridiculously simple. The world he'd been living in had such a primitive view on alchemy that it wasn't even worth the time to read the few books written on the subject.

Instead of pulling the books out, Ed refrained and turned his gaze to the desk and couch. The desk was neatly organized, and a couple small picture frames sat near one corner. Curious, Ed moved a little closer. There was a picture of Mustang and Hughes in their younger days, a picture of Mustang's unit, and a small picture of Alphonse, large in the hulking armor, holding a twelve-year-old Ed upside-down by his ankles.

At the last picture, Ed smiled a little. It was hard to believe he'd ever been so young and carefree... His smile faded as a sad and nostalgic feeling washed over him. At the time he hadn't felt carefree, but he had been. Oh, he'd had many more responsibilities and emotional baggage than many children his age, but he'd been young and naïve. He'd believed he could do anything...

He didn't believe that anymore.

A sound beside him made him look up, and he saw Mustang carrying two glasses. When the man saw he had Ed's attention, he offered one of to Ed. Taking the glass, Ed sniffed at it, then took a small sip.

"Thanks," he murmured, then glanced back at the picture. It was odd to think Roy Mustang would have a photo of him and his brother on his desk. He'd always thought the pompous man was only using them for his own gains, but...

He glanced again at Mustang, then shook his head slightly. Thinking back, with the perspective he had now, it was obvious that Mustang had been trying to protect them, doing everything he could to help them, he'd just had his own way of going about it. Ed suddenly felt so ungrateful. This man had made it possible for him, a _child_, to become a State Alchemist, and yet he'd given the man nothing but grief... Ed wasn't sure that he would have been as patient, nor did he think he would have given a little brat like himself a chance.

"You really are a good man, you know that?" Ed said suddenly, as this realization hit him.

Mustang blinked at the unexpected complement, then said, "Actually, I'm not; but thanks for the thought."

To this, Ed simply shook his head before glancing around the apartment again. "It doesn't seem like there's enough room here for two," he observed.

"There's room," Mustang said, then put his drink on the desk. Walking to the couch, he unlatched something at the bottom, then pulled it out into a bed. "I have work I need to do tonight. Feel free to take the bed."

"You actually work?" Ed said automatically, then felt his cheeks heat. The remark had been extremely childish, one he would have quipped when he was a teenager, but something unacceptable coming from an adult.

The colonel glanced at him then gave a small, humor-filled smirk. "That's right. Not only am I employed by the military, I also work for them as well."

Ed felt his cheeks burn even hotter at that. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was really inappropriate of me to say..."

To this, Mustang's grin faded and was replaced with a look of surprise. Finally he murmured, "Well, it's nice to know you'll eventually learn _some_ manners."

Ed cleared his throat and said, changing the subject, "I don't want to take your bed. I just wouldn't feel right about making you sleep on the floor."

The colonel raised an eyebrow and said mildly, "Who said I'm sleeping on the floor?"

The burning in Ed's cheeks that had just been starting to fade came back with a sudden ferocity. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, before saying uncomfortably, "Ehm... I do like you, Mustang, but I don't think that..."

To this, Mustang's lips pressed together in a way that Ed had seen many times before. It was how the man looked when he was trying not to laugh. "I told you," Mustang said finally. "I have things to work on. I'll do that while you sleep."

Ed's mouth clamped shut. Embarrassed didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling right now. Without another word, he quickly downed the alcohol before walking to the kitchen. He helped himself to another glass, then drank it just as quickly before putting the glass in the sink. When he turned, Mustang was staring at him with a worried frown.

"What?" Ed asked peevishly. Al often gave him that same look, and it frustrated Ed to no end. He knew what it meant, seeing as how he'd seen it most often after his wife had died. That had been a dark time in his life. He'd felt as if the whole world hated him; and, for a time, he hadn't wanted to live in the world at all.

"Nothing..." Mustang murmured, then took a sip of his own drink. Ed frowned suddenly at the way the man had withdrawn. He would have expected snide words back from Mustang, not this quiet, reflective attitude.

Ed wandered back toward the man and said, "Well, alright then, I'm pretty tired; so if you don't mind, I'm going to undress and get some sleep."

"Already?" Mustang asked in surprise. Pulling out his pocket watch, the man looked at it and said, "But it's only..."

"Yes, but I'm tired _now_," Ed said. He really was tired—exhausted really... He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing outside the bookshop, but it had been quite a while. He'd been tired when he'd arrived at Mustang's apartment; but after the alcohol, he had a nice buzz going and he felt very ready for some sleep.

Unbuttoning his vest, Ed said, "I... obviously don't have any sleepwear with me..." It wasn't that he was asking the man to borrow his pajamas, but if Mustang would prefer him not to sleep in his underwear then he'd need to provide something.

"Sorry," Mustang said. "I'd offer you something, but I don't have anything."

Ed frowned. "Nothing?" he asked. What kind of a person didn't have something to sleep in?

Mustang glanced up at him slowly and said in that flat tone he remembered, "That's right, Full..." A pause. "Edward." Ed cocked his head. The man had stopped himself, but Ed had caught it and he felt slightly amused. It had been a long time since he'd been called 'Fullmetal'.

"Then what do you sleep in?" he asked, then quickly closed his mouth when the man simply stared at him. Well... that certainly answered _that_ question.

Ed stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, and used the restroom before slipping under the covers. While he'd been in the other room, Mustang had moved to his desk and sat down. Taking a small drink, Mustang began shuffling through some papers.

With a yawn, Ed closed his eyes and nestled into the bedding. At first, it felt a little strange knowing that he was sleeping in Roy Mustang's bed. It was just... odd. Besides that, the man's scent was all around him—in the blankets and in the pillow. The oddity didn't prevent him from falling asleep in his exhausted state, though, and soon he wasn't aware of anything.

* * *

Ed's body jerked awake at the sound of a ringing telephone. He opened his eyes and blinked a little at the candlelight. He frowned and glanced around, trying to get his bearing. This wasn't his apartment... wasn't his bed... wasn't the smell he was used to... His eyes settled on the man seated at the desk and the memories of being in Amestris settled on him. The rain... the shop... Mustang...

The phone rang again and he watched Mustang pick up the receiver and say mildly, "Hello?"

Just that simple act seemed so odd to Ed. From what he remembered, Mustang had always answered the phone in his office with a strong 'Mustang'. He'd never thought that there might be a difference in the way the man would answer his own personal phone.

There was a moment of silence before the man rubbed at his eyes and said in that same mild voice, "Yes, of course I'll take the call. Put him through." Another moment of silence then, "What do you think you're doing calling at this time of night, Fullmetal?" Ed blinked. Now _that_ was the tone he remembered; that strong commanding tone with the slightly condescending edge.

He watched as Mustang pulled out his pocket watch and click it open before saying, "Of course I was asleep. That's what _normal_ people do this close to midnight." Another pause. "No, I'm not always asleep." Pause. "I'm sure it does seem like a lot of sleep to you. See, people of normal height need more sleep than..."

Mustang pulled the phone away from his ear and set it down on the desk as shouting rang from the receiver. It must have gone on for at least a full minute, in which time Mustang poured himself more alcohol from the bottle on his desk and shuffled quickly through a few folders before picking the phone back up.

"Yes, of course I'm listening to you," Mustang said. Ed tried to feel irritated, but instead he only felt slightly amused. If he were in the colonel's place, Ed probably would have shouted back, hung up, or at least given the kid a stern lecture about telephone politeness.

The colonel shuffled through more papers, then said, "Your report? Oh is that what it was? I thought you were drawing me a picture to put on my fridge."

Ed could hear more ranting from the phone, and again Mustang set the receiver down. After more paper shuffling, Mustang seemed to find what he wanted. Reaching over, the colonel picked something up that Ed couldn't see and...

Ed blinked and leaned up on one elbow.

Glasses?

Mustang wore glasses?

Since when?

Sitting up, Ed glanced at the paper the man was reading and could see that it was a report he had written. When the noise from the phone quieted, Mustang once again picked it up. He nodded before saying, "Of course I remember what was in it."

Ed frowned thoughtfully at the paper in Mustang's hand. Wasn't he supposed to turn the reports into Hakuro? Why did he still have it?

Mustang paused, then grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil and started writing. After a moment, he said, "I'm not a supply clerk, Fullmetal. Call the warehouse. They're the ones who issue those things." A pause. "You have a phone book, don't you?" Another pause. "Yes, I could give you the number; but I want to go back to sleep, so I'll let you find it yourself." Pause. "Good night, Fullmetal."

Ed could hear his younger self shouting on the phone as Mustang hung up. Feeling rather irritated that he'd been treated in such a way when he was younger, Ed was about to say something when the colonel picked up the phone again and started dialing.

Mustang sighed heavily as he waited, then in a very professional tone said, "Yes, this is Colonel Roy Mustang. I have a subordinate who will be calling to request some supplies." A pause. "Major Edward Elric." Pause. "Yes, the Fullmetal, that's right." Another pause, and at his angle, Ed could see a little of the small smile that played out on Mustang's face. "That's true. He is a good kid."

Ed felt his earlier irritation deflate as he listened to the colonel talk. He'd always thought that Mustang didn't like him, and that the man was constantly trying to make things hard for him, but...

As Ed listened to the man read off the list, he finally began to understand. Mustang hadn't given him the number so that he could have time to authorize the supplies. Ed was starting to remember this conversation, and he hadn't realized at the time that perhaps he wouldn't have been able to get the supplies on his own. Yet, after the phone call to Mustang, when he'd finally called the warehouse, Ed had felt a sort of pride in being able to do this on his own because he'd been so mad at Mustang...

He'd never known... What other things had Mustang done to help him that he'd never known about?

When Mustang hung up, Ed watched as he tucked the report away into that same folder, and he couldn't help but ask, "Why do you still have that report?"

The colonel jumped a little and turned around in his chair. The surprised look on his face, along with the glasses, only seemed to emphasize how young he was; and, at that moment, Ed really felt his age.

After getting over the initial surprise, Mustang smoothed his face back to its normal, calm composure and said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I couldn't possibly submit those to Hakuro. They're too sloppy, and the man has a hard time reading things in script anyway."

"But..." Ed started.

Turning back toward his desk in that uncomfortable-looking wooden chair, Mustang said, "I submitted typed copies to the general. Don't worry."

Ed grimaced. "You didn't make Hawkeye type them up, did you?" he asked, suddenly feeling bad for the woman.

Mustang turned around a little in his chair and gave Ed a wryly amused look. "Of course not. She's not my secretary. No one sees your reports but Hakuro and me."

"Oh..." Ed muttered, feeling suddenly embarrassed. "I just thought... because she was always bringing work in for you and stuff..."

Mustang was quiet for a moment before saying, "You never really knew what our jobs were, did you?"

Ed opened his mouth, then closed it. No, not really. What he really remembered was that Mustang was often sitting at his desk going over papers and sometimes Hawkeye would come in and deliver stuff to him.

"Hawkeye's job is similar to mine in that she can approve and disapprove requests. She's just another chain in our department. She goes over the less important requests and also looks over the reports from the billing department, which takes care of the money for the upkeep of Central Headquarters itself, meaning the building upkeep, grounds, feeding people, etc."

Mustang took a drink and continued. "She delivers the financial reports to me as well as the more urgent or important requests. I read over those and either approve or deny. We do other things that pertain more to military matters, but that's the basics of our everyday work life."

Ed blinked as he digested that information. It all sounded so... "Boring..." Ed said out loud.

This made Mustang grin and he nodded. "Yes, very. But this way I know everything that is going on. I often read over Hawkeye's forms as well so that I can be more informed. That's part of why she's always bringing in papers for me."

"But... you complained about it a lot," Ed argued, finding it hard to believe that Mustang had given himself more work needlessly.

The colonel turned around and picked up a couple of papers. "You were too young to realize we were bantering with each other. Your perception was off because you didn't understand."

Ed slowly rested his head back down on the pillow and thought about what Mustang had just said. He was right. He hadn't understood; yet, thinking back on the way the older officers talked to each other now, he had no problems seeing it.

Ed gazed at the bottle on Mustang's desk. That hadn't been there when he'd gone to bed...

"You should go back to sleep," Mustang said in a distracted tone.

"What about you?" he asked. He was starting to feel guilty about kicking Mustang out of his bed. The man surely had to be tired...

"I do this all the time," the colonel said with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry."

Ed frowned as it suddenly occurred to him why it had seemed that Mustang was so lazy. If he routinely stayed up so late working, then he must have really needed those naps at work... Ed closed his eyes and pulled the covers up over his shoulders as he tried to get back to sleep.

Good sleep was hard for him to get any more. Since his wife had died, Ed hadn't been able to sleep well at all. Of course, he'd had the same problem after Alphonse had married and moved away—at least until he'd gotten married himself. And he'd had sleep problems when he'd first come to that world, but after getting settled with Alfons, Ed found that he'd slept much better.

Ed opened his eyes to stare at Mustang's back, then closed them again as he thought about the phone conversations. For some odd reason, he felt as though he'd learned more about Roy Mustang in this one night than he had all those years he'd associated with the man...


	2. Illusion of Truth

—

**Mirrors of Yesterday**

**II**

**Illusion of Truth**

—  
Ed's mind floated back to the surface of consciousness and he opened his eyes. He'd dozed off, but he was sure he hadn't been asleep for more than a couple hours. Turning his head, he saw that the candle was almost spent, and that Mustang was laying his head down on the desk.

He smiled a little at the image. It was one he'd seen more than once at the office in the late afternoon. With a sigh, Ed got out of the bed and moved to Mustang's side. He picked up the bottle and took note of how much more was gone, then put it down and studied the man.

Ed hadn't known Mustang drank so much; and in a way, he suddenly thought he could relate to him that much better. He'd drunk a lot too after his wife died... He still drank more than Al thought was needed, but at least he wasn't drunk all the time anymore. He'd been able to lose himself in his work at the university and in his research.

Mustang's arm was reached out across the desk, his hand wrapped around a half-full glass. Without thinking, Ed picked the glass up and downed the contents before placing it next to the bottle. Turning his attention back to the younger man, Ed decided that Mustang would sleep better in the bed, and since Ed was the older one, it was his responsibility to make sure Mustang was taken care of. That was how he was with Al; it just seemed right to take care of those younger than himself.

"Hey," he said quietly. When he got no response, Ed rubbed Mustang's back roughly. "Hey, wake up."

Mustang groaned and sat up slowly. One of the papers stuck to his cheek for a moment before falling lightly back onto the desk. The colonel gazed blearily up at him through skewed glasses and blinked owlishly.

"Fullmed'l?" Mustang slurred. "What'r you doin' heere?"

"You brought me here, remember?" Ed said softly. "Remember the bookstore?"

The colonel looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened slightly in remembrance. "Ooooh... Yeah, I 'member," he mumbled and started to lay his head back down on the desk.

"Hey," Ed said, stopping him. "Why don't you come sleep on the bed?"

Mustang studied him through bloodshot eyes, and said, a little less slurred, "You sure? Seemed you wouldn't want..."

"Yeah, it's fine," Ed said, cutting him off. "Better than you sleeping here. It will catch up to you when you're older..."

"Almost funny coming from you," Mustang half mumbled and rubbed at his face—skewing the glasses a bit before taking them off and setting them on one of the folders.

Ed moved to the side of the desk so that the colonel could get up. Absentmindedly, he poured more of the alcohol into the glass and drank it while trying not to watch the man get undressed. It just wouldn't be polite to watch...

He heard Mustang settle himself into the bed, then, "You can sleep here too. It won't bother me."

Ed fingered the glass while he thought about it. The last time he'd slept with another male, besides his brother, was when he'd needed to share a bed with Alfons Heiderich... and sometimes when he _hadn't_ needed to share a bed with Alfons... Ed frowned and tried to justify that to himself. It had been a hard time for them both and sometimes it had been nice to have human contact. They'd been good friends just finding some small comfort in the embrace of another human being...

At the memory of his deceased friend, Ed gulped down the rest of the alcohol as if that would make the pain in his heart go away. He missed Alfons so much... Why did it seem like most of the people he cared for, died? It wasn't a pleasant thought, and he worked to push it away and bring his mind back to the present. He _could_ share the bed with Mustang, but they were both grown men—he and Alfons had been so young, boys really—and... well...

He sighed. It was better than the floor, he supposed. Setting the glass down, Ed blew out the candle and moved cautiously around to the other side of the bed. Staring down at the bed, Ed hesitated getting in. It wasn't just that Mustang was a male, that wasn't _exactly_ what was bothering him—thought it did seem an odd thing for two grown men to do unless absolutely necessary—it was... well... it had just been a long time since he'd slept in the same bed as anyone at all...

"You just going to stand there?" came the voice from the darkness.

Gently chewing on his lip, Ed quickly made the decision, then slipped under the covers and laid his head on the pillow. It was then that he realized... "There's only one pillow," he said, revealing the obvious.

"You can have it," Mustang said tiredly.

Ed rolled over onto his side and made a 'hmm' sound. The alcohol was taking effect and he was starting to feel rather nice. "It's your pillow. You should have it."

"It doesn't matter to me," came the response.

Ed frowned, trying to find a solution to the problem, then said, "Fine. How about we share it?"

There was a pause, then a hesitant, "You sure...?"

"Yeah..." Ed said, his inhibitions lessened given the comfortable buzz.

Scooting the pillow over, he rested his head on one half while Mustang took the other. Their bodies weren't touching, but they were definitely very close and Ed suddenly wondered just how undressed Mustang was...

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Ed said, "I kick."

"So do I," Mustang muttered.

"Yeah, but one of my legs isn't real," Ed pointed out.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to kick the one that is," Mustang replied dryly.

To this, Ed couldn't help but smile for a moment before letting it slip away. "My wife used to complain about my limbs..." he said softly, the alcohol loosening his tongue. She hadn't liked it when Ed took the automail off to sleep because it freaked her out, but she didn't like it when he kept them on either.

There was a moment of silence, then a surprised, "You're married?"

"No..." Ed answered softly. "Not any more. She... she died."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. It's been years now, and we weren't married that long," Ed explained.

"You don't sound alright," Mustang said, and Ed realized that his own voice had taken on an emotional quality. He cleared his throat. Sounding emotional was the last thing he wanted, but with being so tired and with the alcohol...

"It's just... I guess it's just my lot in life to be left alone..." Ed explained, and felt stupid for getting into this. "I mean, I did love my wife, but..." He shook his head. "We were better friends than lovers," he explained. Oh yes, they'd had the best conversations, and she'd been witty and smart, but when it came to them as husband and wife...

There was silence for a long time before Ed said, "How come you never got married?" More silence. "I mean," Ed said, feeling a little embarrassed that he was prying into the man's personal life. "You seemed to date a lot and women fawned over you quite often... At least from what I remember..."

There was silence for a long time and Ed had finally begun to think the man was asleep when he heard, "The women were—are—mostly informants and people in my networking system. I use them to get messages to people and they use them to get messages to me. The dates aren't romantic in nature."

"Oh," Ed said, feeling a little stupid now. He'd always thought Mustang was such a playboy... "But, you _could_ find women to go out with, right? I've seen the way women look at you. You can't say that _none_ of them were romantic in nature."

"I dated a couple of them, but not seriously," Mustang explained, his words sounding a little forced.

"Maybe you should work less and take one of those adoring women out seriously," Ed said. "You're not getting any younger. You don't want to be..." His voice caught in his throat. "...alone..." A pause while he swallowed. "...when you're older, do you?"

"It's not my work that's the problem," Mustang said quietly.

Ed waited for more, but when nothing came he asked, "Then what _is_ the problem?" He waited silently for the man to gather his thoughts. While this wasn't generally one of his strong points, Ed was great at listening and opening up to people when he'd been drinking, and it seemed that Mustang was the same way.

"I don't... I don't really like women..." Mustang said hesitantly.

"Eh...? Don't like women? You and Hawkeye seem to get along pretty well..." Ed said, feeling a bit confused.

"That's not what I—" Mustang started, then made a sound of exasperation, before grunting, "Never mind."

Ed frowned and glanced at the man through the darkness as his mind worked to process all of this through the alcohol and make sense of it. When the answer came, Ed almost rejected it immediately.

"You don't mean..." Ed asked cautiously. "You like... eh... um..." He flushed. That just wasn't something you asked someone. It wasn't... well, it wasn't _normal_. He'd heard of people like that, but he'd never actually _met_ one...

He felt Mustang stiffen beside him, then, "Apparently, I've had too much to drink. I'm going to sleep now. Good night."

Ed laid there, his mind still reeling from this new information. He'd always thought of those kinds of people as, well... odd. Society painted a picture of them as evil and depraved individuals who would take you against your will and have their way with you, and... and... well, stuff like that...

Clearing his throat, Ed asked uneasily, "You're not going to molest me in my sleep, are you?"

"For the love of..." Mustang exclaimed. Throwing the covers off of himself, he started getting out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Ed asked, then realized it was a dumb question. He could recognize insult when he saw it.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Mustang answered irritably.

Reaching out, Ed grabbed a hold of the man's bare shoulder. "Wait. There's not much room on the floor with the couch folded out into a bed. If you want, I'll sleep on the floor. I'm a lot smaller than you are." At that, Mustang turned his head and Ed could faintly see the man's quizzically amused look.

"What?" Ed asked defensively, then realized as a teenager, or even a young man in his early twenties, he never would have called himself 'small' so offhandedly.

"I guess you really have matured..." Mustang murmured softly.

"Well, gee, thanks," Ed growled, trying not to feel offended.

Mustang shook his head. "_I_ don't care if you sleep in the same bed with me, but _you_ obviously do..."

"I don't really care," Ed said, quickly cutting him off. He didn't want to fight with Mustang. It reminded him too much of when his wife had been alive... Most of their fights had been in bed. Of course, their fights had never been resolved before they went to sleep, so waking up had always been stressful and awkward for Ed. He had no desire to repeat that here with Mustang, especially when this wasn't even his home and he was staying here by Mustang's invitation. "It was just a dumb question. I just..." Ed looked down in an effort to find the right words. He hadn't meant to offend, it had just come out. "I've just never met someone... eh... like you."

_Very eloquent, Ed,_ he thought sarcastically to himself, but he couldn't help it. Finding himself in the same bed with a man like that, who was barely clothed... well, it really _did_ make him uncomfortable... "I... can I ask you some questions, so that I can understand better?" Ed cringed, thinking he sounded like a curious child, but he'd always been one to try understanding things he didn't know.

Mustang stared at him quietly for a long time before turning his head away. Ed looked at the man's back through the darkness, thinking that it was too late. He'd already messed up, and there was no going back...

"Sure," Mustang finally murmured. Turning, the man resumed his place under the blanket, but didn't say anything.

Ed lay there, again sharing the pillow with the man, and this time he felt their proximity acutely. He wasn't sure what to say. He had so many questions, but how did you ask someone to explain why they liked having sex with someone of their own gender? Where did you start? How could you know what would and would not offend someone? How could such questions be asked without creating embarrassment for both of them?

"Um... so..." Ed started, then paused to clear his throat. "Where do you, um, eh... go to find other people like you?" he asked, then said quickly, "To date, you know. I mean since you don't like women."

"I don't know," Mustang said quietly. "This isn't exactly something you advertise, and I don't devote a lot of time to trying to find people with the same tastes."

Of course it wasn't. Ed felt so stupid for even asking that question. "Sounds... lonely," Ed said finally, unsure what else to say.

"It is," Mustang said, his voice laced with pain.

Ed was silent for a moment, then asked, "Um... Have you ever... well, you know... with another guy?" Blood rushed to his face and he felt his cheeks grow hot.

"No," Mustang said flatly.

"Does that mean you're a virgin?" Ed asked. He'd been so surprised by the answer that he hadn't even stopped to think about the question. He instantly felt like an inconsiderate jerk, and felt even more embarrassed because of it.

"No, I've had sex with a couple women," Mustang said in irritation. Ed cringed a little. He supposed he'd be defensive about being asked that too.

"Is that how you know you don't like women?" Ed asked curiously.

"No. I had sex with them because I wanted to try being normal for once. It didn't work out very well." He paused. "No, I've known for a long time... It's not... it's not all about sex, Ed. People 'like me' want to have a relationship just like 'normal' people. Does that make sense?"

"I guess, but how... I mean, I don't know..." Ed scrubbed at his hair, not sure what he wanted to say. "It's not like you can have any kids, and well... I don't know... Men and women, they _fit_ together, if you get my meaning. Two women they can't... and two men... they're not meant to..." Ed's cheeks burned at the mental images. Sex just wasn't a topic he ever discussed with anyone. Even with his wife, it hadn't been...

"You're still hung up on the sex part, aren't you?" Mustang asked in wry amusement.

Ed's face grew hotter and was glad the room was dark. "Well, yeah. I mean, I can understand how two men or two women might get along well, but to have it be more than friendship you have to have sex, right?"

"It's not like you to be so narrow minded, Ed," Mustang said in an offhand manner. "Do you really think there's only one way to have sex? Did you only have sex in one way with your wife?"

Ed frowned. "Actually, yes, _when_ we had sex..."

"When?" Mustang asked.

"Her parents were these religious fanatics that taught sex was only for creating offspring and that it was evil to enjoy it. She wouldn't even try to like it; she just wanted me to... eh... do my thing so that we could have kids," Ed said suddenly feeling a little humiliated at this line of discussion.

"Well... that's... unfortunate..." Mustang said hesitantly, sounding unsure of how to react. "And did you have any kids?"

"No," Ed answered dully. "We didn't try very hard. It was kind of a sore point in our relationship. She didn't like it, and so we just didn't do it often... But everything else was pretty good. We were good friends and she was interested in science and..." Ed trailed off. He felt like he was making excuses for his failed sex life.

"You must have spent a lot of time pulling yourself," Mustang mused.

Ed's eyes widened and his cheeks heated even more. "That's really not something you talk about..." he choked, thoroughly mortified.

"Well, as long as you get to delve into my sex life, I don't see why I can't do the same. It is equivalent after all."

"Since you don't get any either, I'm sure you do the same," he said in a childish attempt to make the man just as embarrassed as he was.

"Of course," Mustang said as if it was no big deal. "For someone your age, you're pretty skittish about this subject," the colonel mused.

"Has nothing to do with my age," Ed muttered.

There was silence for a while before Mustang asked, "Why haven't you remarried?"

"I don't know..." Ed whispered and shifted slightly. It was a lie, really. He had plenty of reasons why he didn't want to start another relationship...

"I wouldn't think that it would be hard for someone with your good looks to find someone," Mustang said.

"I'm not really good looking..." Ed said automatically.

"You are," Mustang affirmed.

"My body is scarred and ugly, and my height is a definite turn off for most woman..." He paused. "No, I'm not good looking at all..." It was true. His wife's eyes had said it all that first night they'd been together. She'd known of his limbs before, yet actually having to see where the metal pieces joined to his skin, to actually have to see the scars...

Ed closed his eyes and tried to ward off the stinging in his eyes and nose that was the telltale signs of tears. The look of disgust in her eyes had said it all, and there were times in their marriage that Ed had wondered if her lack of sexual drive had to do with _him_ more than the fact that she didn't like the act itself.

The bed creaked a little as Mustang shifted, and Ed opened his eyes to see the younger man lean on one of his elbows and look down at him. "You _are_ good looking."

Ed swallowed hard at the compliment, then looked away. He felt embarrassed to be complemented so freely, but to be told that by another man... and _Mustang..._?! "Maybe you think so, but what good does that do me? You're a man," Ed said. His chest felt tight and it was hard to get the breath to make the words come out right.

"Perhaps women aren't for you," Mustang suggested quietly.

Ed glanced at him for a moment in shocked revulsion, then said harshly, "Oh please..." before looking away again. Have a relationship with a man? Have _sex_ with a man? It just wasn't right. Everyone knew it was wrong... How could Mustang even suggest such a thing?

Yet... Mustang had said something to him that no one else had, not even his wife, and it made him at least consider the idea. What would it be like to have a man touch him, or kiss him, or hold him...? How would it be different than a woman? In what ways?

Ed swallowed hard and whispered hoarsely, "Do you... do you really think I'm good looking?" It was embarrassing to ask, but for some reason it was important to know if the man had been sincere.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before Mustang answered in a slightly shaking voice, "I think... I think you're beautiful..."

The words stunned him for a moment, and he tried to comprehend them. Beautiful? _He_ was beautiful?! His breath came in heavy gasps as he tried to keep control of his emotions. All he could think of was how his wife had looked at him whenever he was naked, and of how others had looked at him when they'd seen the false limbs... No, he wasn't beautiful... he was disgusting, and everyone knew it...

"I think you need to put your glasses back on," Ed whispered tightly, then said bitterly, "Or maybe being a faggot has played with your mind."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Mustang's direction, and Ed instantly regretted his words. His eyes began to sting again, and his body began to shake as he tried to hold in all the mixed emotions inside of him.

He was sickened by the idea of being with another man; yet, no woman had ever told him he was beautiful. No one had ever spoken to him in a way that was obvious they were attracted to him, that they wanted him... No one besides Mustang, and he was no woman...

Ed gripped the bedding and pressed it close to his mouth, as if that would keep everything in. The silence in the room was heavy and Ed was sure the younger man must be angry, or at the very least, offended... And what did he care if he was? What did it matter? Ed would just... He'd just... He'd just what? Go somewhere else? Where would he go? He had no idea how he'd gotten here in the first place.

He turned his head slightly, and saw out of the corner of his eye that Mustang was still there, still leaning on his elbow, still looking at him... His face held a wounded expression, but he said nothing.

_Why do I always get into fights when I'm in bed with someone?_ Ed wondered. Perhaps beds were cursed for him. Perhaps he should just give up sleeping in a bed and always sleep on a couch or on the floor. It was stupid, but that's how he felt at the moment.

Swallowing hard, Ed whispered uncomfortably, "Look... I'm sorry..." He didn't want to fight, and as hard as it was to admit, the complement had meant a lot... When there was no answer, Ed turned fully to look at Mustang. "I shouldn't have said that... I just..." Ed fumbled with the words, trying to come up with the right thing to say. "It's just that no one ever..." His voice caught and he looked away.

Ed pressed his lips together as he realized just how much it must have taken out of the younger man to say that. It had taken Ed forever to confess any sort of feelings toward his wife when they'd only been friends, and she was a female. It was _normal_. How much more would it take to be able to say that to someone who you knew didn't share those same views?

Glancing over at Mustang again, Ed swallowed and said, "I really am sorry. I... Thank you..." Mustang looked deeply into his eyes for a while, then nodded silently. Again, Ed was struck with how _young_ Mustang looked. Perception was everything, Ed supposed. When he'd been a teenager, Mustang had looked like an old man; yet now Ed couldn't miss all the features that had once made Hawkeye say that Mustang had a 'baby face'.

Ed considered Mustang and all that they had talked over again, then let out his breath. "I'm... well, I really don't know what to think... or... well, even how to act," he said awkwardly.

"You don't have to do anything," Mustang answered quietly. "I shouldn't have said what I did, but..." The man looked away and continued. "I _do_ find you attractive, and I'd already let things slip about myself that I shouldn't have, so I just thought..." A pause. "Maybe if you knew, it would strike your curiosity. You always were too damn curious, and I thought... well, that maybe you'd want to at least see what it was like..."

"So you weren't just saying it to be nice," Ed mumbled, feeling slightly upset and strangely disappointed. "I should have known..."

Mustang sat up, letting the blanket and sheet fall to his waist, and crossed his legs under the blanket. "No, Ed. No..." he said quickly, trying to defend himself, then raked his fingers through his hair.

"No?" Ed asked, anger creeping into his voice. "As I recall, you were always trying to manipulate me so that you could get what you wanted. Why should this be different?"

Mustang worked his mouth for a moment, then finally shut it and looked down in his lap. "I'm not always trying to manipulate you," he said finally. "I want what was best for you."

Ed sat up as well and looked pointedly at the other man. "So you're trying to tell me that you never manipulated me or my brother for your own gains?" he asked, skepticism threading through his voice.

"You're a... you _were_ a _kid_, Ed," Mustang said in frustration. "A stubborn _brat_ who didn't know what was best for him. I wanted... want... to help you. I do what I can to help you."

The phone conversation came back to Ed and he knew that what the man was saying was true, but he couldn't stop himself from saying, "So, you trying to manipulate my feelings right now was supposed to help me?"

"I wasn't trying to..." Mustang began, but Ed cut him off.

"Come on. Be straight with me. Why don't you just say it outright? Don't bandy words, don't beat around the bush, just say it straight out," Ed demanded.

Mustang's face contorted into a frustrated scowl. "Alright. Fine. What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to admit that you were just manipulating me to make me want to have sex with you." Ed's face burned with what he'd just said, but he was also angry to think Mustang would play with him like that—angry with himself that even though he was older, he'd still fallen for it...

Mustang studied him for a moment, then said in a slightly amused tone, "So it all comes back to that."

Ed blinked. "What are you talking about?" he asked in surprise.

Mustang shook his head and said, "You're afraid."

"What?" Ed said, totally taken aback.

"You're afraid," he repeated softly. "You're afraid of me because I'm different, and this is how you're handling it. You want to be angry with me because you're afraid to admit that you just _might_ be curious." Ed opened his mouth to protest, but Mustang overrode him. "I wasn't trying to manipulate you; if I was, you probably wouldn't have even noticed."

Mustang stopped and gave Ed an offended look before going on. "I _was_ being honest with you. After all, what more do I have to lose? Is it so wrong of me to hope that you just might want me too? Is it so wrong of me to want you to be curious enough to at least let me _hold_ you?"

Ed swallowed hard. He'd rarely ever seen such intense emotion from Mustang, and when he had, it had been because he'd been angry... This was anger, but it was also woven with something else...

"You've been married. You've at least had someone. Is it really wrong of me to want to have something like that, even if it's for one night? Yes, I do want to be intimate with you, but it's not only that. I'd be happy just to _hold_ you..." He paused, then whispered, "Like I said, it's not _all_ about sex..."

They looked at each other for several quiet moments, then finally Mustang covered his face with one of his hands and let his head drop. He stayed that way for several moments before whispering, "Let's not talk about it anymore, Ed. I'm tired, you're tired, we've both been drinking... Let's just go to sleep and just forget this happened, alright?"

Ed opened his mouth to say something, then closed it when he realized nothing he'd have to say would help. He remained silent as Mustang laid back down, turned around with his back to him, and scooted to the edge of the bed.

This was a side of Mustang that Ed had never seen before. It was so... personal... Ed had long ago thrown away the notion that adults were always in control of their emotions. Growing up had done a lot for his perception of how people worked, yet still it was so hard to imagine Roy Mustang not being the picture of complete calm or not being a manipulative bastard.

This right here was the _real_ Mustang, the one behind the façade. He was neither lazy, nor a manipulative son-of-a-bitch bastard. He wasn't always calm, he wasn't a playboy or a ladies man, and he wasn't just using him for his own gains...

No, the real Roy Mustang was a hardworking man who wanted to help two little boys meet a goal, but didn't want to get too close to them for reasons Ed didn't know. This was a man who'd barely had a love life and was practically a virgin except for a few random encounters because he had an attraction to things that society deemed as wrong. He was a man, an adult, but he still had feelings, still had hopes, still had dreams. He still feared how people would view him if he was seen for who he was, and he still felt lonely...

Ed suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He, too, feared how people would view him if they knew him; and he, too, felt lonely... He felt lonely all the time... Al, with his wife and children, were his only family now, and though they sometimes visited, and he visited them, it wasn't the same. His own wife was gone, yet even when she'd been alive, he'd felt lonely at times because she'd never, truly, accepted him for who he was.

He let his eyes travel over Mustang's form in the dimness. Was society right? Was what Mustang wanted wrong? Ed frowned deeply as he thought about how society in the other world considered people like him, people who'd had to get false limbs. Society looked down on him and some people even hated him, and thought of him with disgust...

Was it all just prejudice then? Was it okay for two men or two women to have what society only deemed worthy for two people of different sex? Ed swallowed hard. Was it wrong for him to be happy that someone thought he was beautiful, even if it was another man? Was it okay to love even if everyone else said it was wrong...

Sinking back under the covers, Ed laid his head on the pillow. His eyes were locked on Mustang's back as he tried to decide what to do. Would it be horribly wrong for them to hold each other—Roy wasn't the only one who longed for physical closeness—or would it be a sin against nature?

Sins, Ed knew well. Ed had sinned plenty of times in his life. If it was a sin, then would one more really matter? He pressed his lips together in thought and tried to figure out the best course of action. His heart beat heavily in his chest and his breathing quickened in nervous apprehension at the thought of going ahead with what Mustang wanted.

Taking a deep breath, Ed scooted a little closer on the bed. He slowly reached his hand out and touched Mustang's shoulder gently. The immediate response of the man stiffening under his touch let Ed know that he was still awake.

Slowly, Ed moved closer until their bodies were almost touching, then whispered, "I know what it's like to be alone..." He paused, then, "But this..." He let his fingers gently ghost along Mustang's shoulder and upper arm. "Not with a woman... I don't understand this..." He stopped and laid his palm flat against the man's shoulder and pulled on it to get him to lay on his back. For a moment, Mustang resisted, then finally let Ed move him. When he saw Mustang's face, he felt even more ashamed.

This close, Ed could see that the younger man's eyes were wet and that his cheeks were damp. Mustang gave him a look of hurt reproach, but said nothing. Yes, Roy Mustang was definitely human, much more than Ed had ever believed. Slowly, Ed moved his hand from Mustang's arm and took his face in one hand, wiping at his cheek with his thumb. Shame filled the man's eyes and he looked way.

"Mustang..." Ed began, then stopped when he was interrupted.

"Roy..."

"What?" Ed asked.

"You can call me 'Roy'," he said softly. "'Mustang' is too..." he trailed off, but Ed understood. It was too formal. Permission to use his given name was much more intimate...

Ed took a deep breath and began again, "Roy..." He stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. Through the wetness, Ed could feel little bits of stubble where his hand was on Mustang's... Roy's... cheek. There had never been stubble on his wife's cheek, but other than that, this was almost the same. It didn't really seem different...

He opened his mouth, then closed it when he realized that nothing he could say would be enough. Ed knew he wasn't eloquent. He didn't have a way with words. That wasn't his talent. Finally, he decided not to say anything at all. Slowly, he moved his other arm under Roy's neck and slid his hand from his cheek to his other shoulder and pulled him in tight.

As the minutes dragged on, Ed could feel Roy's breathing grow more shallow and quick, and then there was a small sniffle before the younger man turned in Ed's hold, snaked his arm around Ed's body, and buried his head in his chest.

Roy's body quivered slightly and after a few minutes Ed could feel wetness seep through his thin undershirt and make contact with his skin. Besides that, and Roy tightening his grip on him, there was no other indication that there was anything wrong; nothing to say that Roy Mustang was crying, but he was...

Ed laid his cheek on Roy's head and rubbed the man's back, and he realized that, to a point, he could empathize—he knew loneliness, and the phantom physical ache of not having someone there to hold or to be held by—yet, Roy had been right. Ed had at least known what it was like to have someone. It hadn't been great, but at least he'd had that experience. He'd also never gone through life knowing that society viewed what he wanted in a mate unnatural.

After a long while, how long Ed couldn't say, Roy finally pulled away and looked at him with tired eyes and a small half smile. "You still going to respect me in the morning?" It was said with a slight hit of a joke, but Ed could hear the fear in that question too.

Ed let the corner of his lip quirk up. "What are you talking about?" he said with quiet humor. "I never respected you in the first place."

Roy sniffled and his grin grew. "You were always a little shit, you know that, right?"

"Hey now, who are you calling 'little'?" Ed asked with a smile.

Roy shifted, pulled the pillow over, and laid his head on it. He looked at Ed, paused, then hesitantly held his arms out and gave him an inviting look. "You, old man," Roy answered.

Ed faltered for a moment, both at the invitation and at the words. He'd held Roy and comforted him, and now he was offering to do the same for him... With a deep breath, Ed cautiously moved over and snuggled into Roy's arms.

"Hey, have some respect for your elders, you dumb kid," Ed said in a playfully grouchy voice.

Roy held him tightly, and Ed hesitantly pressed his face against Roy's chest. He thought it would be odd, and it was at first, but the strangeness faded quickly and Ed closed his eyes and relaxed. He almost felt like he had when he was a teenager and being held by Alfons...

"I'm not usually like that," Roy said suddenly, embarrassment threaded in his voice.

"I know," Ed murmured and closed his eyes. It felt so nice to be held... "Don't worry about it."

After a few minutes, Roy spoke again, "I don't want you to leave." Ed opened his eyes and turned his head up a little so that he could see Roy looking down at him.

"I don't know that I have any control over that..." Ed said quietly. "I don't even know how I got here."

"I see... Then you could be gone at any time?" Roy asked unhappily.

"Yeah," Ed said.

There was a moment of silence before Roy pulled away slightly and looked Ed straight in the eyes. Ed watched him swallow nervously, then reach out and touch Ed's cheek. "I want to kiss you..."

Ed bit softly on his lip, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say really. "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm not really... I don't think I have the same feelings for you that you have for me," Ed said. He didn't want to hurt the man, but he felt the need to be honest.

"That's not what I said, Ed," Roy said, his voice taking on some of the 'Colonel Mustang' qualities that Ed remembered so well. "I didn't say I wanted you to fall in love with me, or have sex with me, I just said that I wanted to kiss you. This requires no work and no feelings on your part, simply the willingness to let me do it."

"So diplomatic," Ed said with a small smile.

"I usually get what I want because I'm willing to try for it," Roy said, sounding _a lot_ like the Colonel Mustang he remembered. "But I'm not going to do it without your permission."

Ed stared at Roy for a moment before moving his gaze away and slowly snuggling back up against Roy's chest. Should he allow it? Hugging and snuggling was one thing, but kissing was so...

"My wife never liked how I kissed," Ed said suddenly.

"I'm not your wife," Roy whispered back, and Ed could hear the longing in his voice, the _need_ to get what he wanted.

For quite a while, Ed lay there thinking about it. He didn't particularly want Roy to kiss him, yet he was a little curious as to what it would be like. This would probably be the only time he'd be able to explore that little curiosity. After all, there was no way he was going to go find some random homosexual male and see if they'd kiss him just for an experiment. Besides... he kinda knew Roy, so in a way it seemed a little bit more okay.

"You can only kiss me if you understand it doesn't mean anything to me," Ed finally said. "I just don't like you that way..." Ed pressed, wanting it to be clear.

Roy nodded. "I understand, though if you think that's going to stop me from taking this opportunity, you're wrong."

When Ed didn't reply to that, Roy slid his hand against Ed's cheek, then to his chin before guiding Ed's head in a position where they could look at each other. Roy stared at him for a while, before taking a deep breath and starting to move in. Ed swallowed hard and nearly backed away as the other man slowly pressed his lips against his. Roy lingered there for a moment and Ed wondered if the man was thinking he'd be able to get a deeper kiss. At that thought, Ed instinctively pressed his lips together tightly. There was no way he was going to soul kiss another man...

Finally, Roy pulled away with a murmured, "Thank you."

"Yeah, sure..." Ed breathed, feeling a little awkward.

They laid there together for a while, and Ed was almost asleep when he heard, "That wasn't bad at all..."

"Thanks..." Ed murmured tiredly, then turned over on his other side so that his back was facing Roy. Almost instantly the other man scooted close so that his chest was against Ed's back and wrapped his arm around him again.

"Is this alright?" Roy asked sounding a little nervous.

"It's fine... Go to sleep..." Ed muttered tiredly. It felt more than good actually. As a child he'd slept in the same bed with his brother. After the failed transmutation, Ed sometimes slept alone, but he often crawled into bed with Al in the middle of the night despite the fact that he was sleeping next to a cold suit of armor. There was also a time that he'd slept with Alfons Heiderich; and, of course, when his brother had joined him in the other world, they'd slept together too... until Al had gone and gotten married...

It had been so terribly lonely after that. He'd always lived with someone, and even when he hadn't shared a bed with that person, there was at least someone there. That, more than anything, had been what had prompted Ed to propose marriage. When she'd died, Ed had been so emotionally drained—both from the problems they'd had and also from losing her. It may not have been great, but it had been okay, and at least he hadn't been alone.

However, no amount of not wanting to be alone had pushed him into throwing himself into another relationship. After pulling himself out of his drunken pity party of a life, Ed had tried to be actively engaged with other people during the day—his job at the university kept him very busy—but when it came to the night time...

Ed reached out and touched the arm that was draped over him. Sliding his fingers along Roy's skin, Ed found his hand out on the mattress in front of him, grabbed ahold of it, and pressed it against his chest while hugging it.

"This doesn't mean anything," Ed whispered. It didn't. He just wanted the closeness...

"I'm very aware of that," Roy answered, sadness lacing through his tired tone. "I wish it did, though," Ed heard Roy say, then nodded, already half asleep. "I think I could fall hard for you..." Roy whispered. There was a moment of silence, then he heard one last thing before falling completely asleep. "Actually... I think I already have..."

* * *


	3. Reflections of a Dream

—

**Mirrors of Yesterday**

**III**

**Reflections of a Dream**

—  
Roy felt himself gradually float into wakefulness. He was vaguely aware of the rain beating heavily against the window, of the sheets against his skin, of the arm around his waist... He blinked. _Arm_...? It was then that the previous evening crashed into his bleary mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut in sick humiliation. Last night he'd told secrets he'd kept all his life... to _Edward Elric_ no less... An older Ed, but Ed still the same...

He felt completely mortified. True, he'd drunk quite a bit, and he'd been tired, but he just couldn't _believe_ he'd made such a horrible mistake. It was a dangerous secret; something he had to keep to himself—for his reputation, for his career. People 'like him', as Ed had put it, just weren't welcome. People 'like him' ended up harassed, demoted, discharged for some silly little thing... or even found 'mysteriously' dead...

Behind him, Ed shifted, and Roy almost didn't want to breathe for fear of interrupting this moment. Mistake as it may have been, it felt so nice to sleep with someone; felt nice to feel another man pressed up against him.

He closed his eyes, trying to understand the situation. How was this older Ed here? How was it possible? Figuring it out seemed to be almost impossible. If Ed didn't know, then how was he supposed to? Ed had said that he could end up going back anytime, but he hadn't seemed sure of how that would happen either.

Roy felt a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want Ed to leave... It was a silly thing really, to feel so needy, especially of someone he'd just met—given that this older Ed was not the younger teen he knew—but he couldn't help it. Now that he'd told Ed his darkest secrets, and they'd seemed to come to some sort of understanding, Roy wanted him to stay... It felt nice to have finally told someone... Maybe he could prevail on Ed to give him a chance, to give being with another man a chance... Probably not, but it was a nice thought that kept him entertained for the next little while as he enjoyed the feel of Ed behind him.

Finally, Roy knew he couldn't stay there any longer. He'd be late if he didn't start getting ready for the day. With a sigh, he slowly moved to get out of the bed, but stopped when he felt something tug at his arm. Turning, Roy saw that Ed was staring fixedly at him and holding onto him.

"Where are you going?" Ed asked, sounding a little reluctant.

"Work... unfortunately," Roy answered simply. He hadn't realized Ed was awake, or maybe he'd woken him up by moving; though he liked the idea that perhaps Ed had been awake and had been enjoying the closeness just as much as he had.

"Of course," Ed murmured before releasing Roy and letting his arm flop onto the bed. He felt heavy and hesitant as he slowly pulled on his uniform. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay here... Damn his responsibilities...

He heard a loud sigh from the bed and turned to see Ed lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I was thinking of finding an automail mechanic. It's been a while since I had mine inspected." Roy frowned slightly. For some reason he hadn't even though about what Ed would do while he was at work. "But... I probably won't," Ed continued, sounding regretful. "I don't have any money."

"Why not just put it on the state's tab?" Roy asked as he buttoned his military jacket.

"I'm no longer in the military," Ed said mildly, then sat up and looked at Roy seriously. "I..." he began, then stopped for a moment as if trying to gather his thoughts. "I would like to thank you for giving me a place to stay. Like I said, I don't have any money, so I can't pay you back..."

Roy studied him quietly for a moment as he digested what Ed had said. He was no longer with the military... Did that mean that he'd been able to achieve his goal of gaining what they'd lost, or at least at returning his brother back to normal, given that Ed still had automail...? He wanted to ask, but now didn't seem to be the right time.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," Roy said in a tone that he hoped sounded inviting. "It's not a problem having you here at all."

Ed pressed his lips in thought, then said, "Thank you, but I don't want to stay here for free. I don't like handouts." Roy nodded. The younger Ed was the same way. Ed was quiet for a moment, then said, "I can cook and clean, though I don't know if that would be enough to repay you for your hospitality."

"You cook?" Roy asked with a raised eyebrow. He was suddenly even more interested in Ed staying with him. Roy could cook a few things well enough to stay alive, but the list of things that he could make was pretty limited, which meant he was forced to eat at the military cafeteria more often than not.

"Yes, I cook," Ed said, sounding slightly defensive. "My mother taught Al and me how to cook when we were children, plus I had to know enough to feed myself when I was a teenager. My wife also taught me a few things..."

"Ah, well then, I think we can work something out," Roy said quickly, not wanting the moment to become awkward. Ed seemed to be quite sensitive about the subject of his deceased wife, and right now Roy didn't have the time to get into a long drawn out discussion. "But for now..." Roy dug out his wallet, pulled out several bills, and offered them to Ed. "Take this and get your automail checked."

"I told you," Ed began stubbornly. "I don't want to take han—"

"This isn't a handout," Roy said, cutting him off. "It's an advance. I also think there should be enough for you to pick some food up for dinner...?" He phrased the last as a question. A home-cooked meal sounded almost as good as Ed sticking around for a while, and he couldn't help but be curious about his cooking skills as well.

Ed seemed to consider this for a moment, then slowly took the money. "Thanks..." he said, sounding a little unsure. He watched as Ed looked down at the bills and studied them; then, after a moment, said, "This is real... isn't it..."

"Unless our banking system changed overnight," Roy said wryly.

Ed glanced up at him with a slightly irritated look on his face, then said, "I meant this whole situation. I mean... I guess I thought perhaps I might wake up back home, but I'm still here. It doesn't feel like it should be real..."

"I'm real," Roy said flatly, then retrieved his black overcoat, pulled it on, and began to button it up.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you weren't," he heard Ed say behind him. "But, to me, you're someone from my past. You're someone I never thought to see again, especially not with you being the age you are now, and me being older... And well, even then, you're just not who I remember you being..." Ed said, his voice trailing off.

Roy swallowed as he did up the last button, then turned to look at Ed, who was gazing down at the money again. What did Ed mean by that? Was it because of what had happened last night? Regret surged through him and he felt angry at himself for telling Ed so much.

"Well... sorry to disappoint you," he said bitterly, then turned and, grabbing his umbrella, walked out the door.

* * *

Ed walked slowly down the sidewalk of East City and took in his surroundings. The rain hadn't stopped, only slowed to a dull drizzle, and the few who were braving the weather had donned heavy coats and were holding umbrellas to protect themselves from the rain.

While Ed did have a heavy coat, there had been no spare umbrella at Roy's place, and so he'd simply decided to go without. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gone without an umbrella in the rain, and it wouldn't be the last. Unfortunately, the absence of said umbrella caused a few curious glances in his direction from those people who made it their business to know everyone else's business.

But what did he care? He'd probably be gone soon anyway... At least, that's what he tried to reassure himself with. Truthfully, he had no idea. The only thing he could remember was the car. It had hit him, he knew that, but after that the memories just weren't there. It had been raining, just like today, and he'd been on his way home from work.

It had been just another day at the university, with students and faculty, and all sorts of research piled on his desk. Just another day where he would go home and have a stiff drink before immersing himself into one of the many projects he had going on.

Just another way to fend off the loneliness.

He'd run into Al on the way home and promised that he'd come visit over the weekend so they could reminisce about the past and about whatever crazy—though never serious—theories they might have to return to their homeland. Promised his nieces and nephews—who adored him for some reason unknown to him—that he'd bring some of that candy he'd invented. Promised his sister-in-law—who thought he was at least one egg short of a dozen, but liked him anyway—that he would absolutely not regale the children with wild stories of magic circles, people who weren't really people, and places far away—that, _of course_, were not real—because then the children got strange ideas.

He smiled softly to himself. He loved his brother's family and envied him as well. His own wife had talked of children early in their marriage, but it had never happened. The practice was to blame the woman for lack of offspring, but he never did. He wondered if it was his fault that she'd never been able to conceive, and he'd tried to console her as much as he could.

Ed paused when he saw a group of boys sailing a small boat down the ditch on the other side of the street, then sighed heavily. Maybe things would have been different if they'd been able to have kids. Maybe he would have become more acceptable in her eyes. Maybe he could have proved himself in some way. Maybe he would have felt more for her...

Maybe.

But, of course, it was all speculation. Despite their problems, numerous as they were, the marriage hadn't been _horrible_. And, though he had married her more so that he wouldn't have to be alone, he _had_ come to care for her a lot; maybe even loved her... It was all so complicated; and, even after all this time since her death, he still felt so confused about a lot of things from that time. He still jumped from idea to idea and from emotion to emotion depending on the day or even the hour.

Shaking his head at himself, Ed began walking again, this time paying attention to the buildings around him. The architecture of the buildings, though different from those in Germany, held a familiar and nostalgic feeling about them. He suddenly found himself wanting pictures of random buildings to take back with him; just so that he could pull them out and look at them every once in a while.

Silly really...

He stopped when he saw the sign in an automail shop, proclaiming that it was open. Moving over to the shop, Ed opened the door and let himself inside.

The first thing he noticed as he wiped the rainwater from his face was a friendly-looking but active old man bustling around the back end of the shop where six young men sat at tables working on various pieces of automail.

The walls were lined both with pictures of ancient automail and the real things; which should probably have been in an antique shop somewhere, or even in a museum. When the old man saw that he had a customer, he quickly scurried out of the back area which, according to the sign, was for employees only, around a long counter, and to where Ed was waiting.

"Good day, good day!" the man said in a friendly, but businesslike manner. He looked Ed up and down curiously, though whether it was the soaked nature of his clothing or the different enough to be foreign look he was sporting in his apparel, Ed didn't know. When he was satisfied, the shopkeeper asked, "What can I do for you?"

Ed raised his automail arm and said, "I need to have my automail examined and maybe even get a tune up." The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Ed realized, once again, that his speech held an obvious German accent to it—an accent that was unknown to Amestris. He'd have to work on that, though right now it wasn't his top priority.

"Is it just the hand?" the shopkeeper asked more slowly, as if Ed might not be able to understand what he was saying.

Ignoring the shopkeeper's tone, Ed said, "No, it's the whole arm, including the shoulder; also, my left leg to above my knee."

"Hm..." the old man murmured, pulling out his pocket watch. "I can look you over right now, though if you need a tune up, then you'll probably need to make an appointment." He snapped the watch shut and looked up at Ed. "That work for you?"

"Of course," Ed said, wondering if he'd be around for the tune up or not.

"Right, well, have yourself a seat at that table there," the man said, pointing to a table halfway between the door and the long counter. "Take that coat of yours off—there's a coat rack over there—and remove your shirt." He waved vaguely to a spot near the door as he wandered to a desk and searched for a few things.

After hanging up the coat, Ed made his way over to the table, moved his hands to his shirt, then paused. He hadn't shown his automail in public for... well, more years than he could remember. But then, that was the other world... In this world, automail was an everyday thing. Still, he couldn't help but feel nervous and reluctant as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Ed heard the old man chuckling and looked up to see him walking back toward the table with a few instruments in hand. "I didn't peg you as one of those types who're embarrassed about their automail." He motioned to one of the chairs. "Sit down and don't worry. We don't judge no one. How you ended up with it is your own business."

"Thanks..." Ed murmured, taking off his shirt and draping it neatly across his lap.

The old man introduced himself as Nolen Knight, then promptly exclaimed, "Well, I'll be! This is Rockbell work if I'm not mistaken! I met Pinako Rockbell once, back in the day. She was quite the woman; but even more, she was quite the mechanic. Still is, from what I hear, and her granddaughter too..."

Ed smiled, then chuckled a little when the man took on an almost guarded look. "Don't worry, I won't tell either of them that it was you who messed with it." Nolan gave him an almost sheepish smile, as if that had been exactly what was on his mind, then began to probe.

Moments later, Nolan muttered in disapproval, "How long has it been since you've had a check up? Those women will eat you alive the next time they see you; you know that?" Ed nodded, silently agreeing, though for a different reason. Most likely those two _would_ eat him alive if they ever saw him, but not for the reason Nolan believed. No, it would be because they were actually seeing him...

Ed swallowed hard, thinking of Winry.

She'd loved him...

He hadn't understood until much later—until it was too late—but he _had_ come to realize it. He probably could have been happy with Winry. She wouldn't have shunned him because of his automail...

Ed mentally shook his head. There was no saying whether or not he would have been happier with Winry than he had been with his wife, but he suspected it might be so. He'd made his choice, however, and it was something that he'd have to live with.

"Well," Nolan said after looking at both his arm and leg. "Despite the fact that you obviously haven't had a tune up in a while..." A pointed look from the old man which obviously meant that he was displeased by such a lack of responsibility. "The automail is in rather good condition. You take good care of it."

Ed nodded. Of course he took good care of it. There was no where he could have gone for a replacement...

Nolan paused, then went on. "I definitely recommend a tune up. I'd be happy to do it, though if you can get to Rizembool, that might be your best bet because the Rockbell women have never looked kindly on others messing with their work, as you must know."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be here in East City and when I leave, I doubt I'll be going that way. Best to have it looked at here," Ed said mildly.

After another feeble attempt to get Ed to go to Rizembool, Nolan agreed to set up an appointment for a check up. After making the appointment, Ed pulled on his shirt, paid a small fee for the quick exam, and left the shop. The rain had lessened to a light sprinkle for now, and for that Ed was grateful. Hopefully, the respite would last long enough for him to shop for food and return back to the apartment without becoming thoroughly soaked.

* * *

Alone in his office, Roy sat back in his chair and stared dully out the window at the drab, and very wet, world beyond. He didn't feel like being here; didn't feel like spending his time going through accounts and requests, or trying to find ways in which he could increase his rank or get close to his superiors.

All of that would matter tomorrow or next week. Right now he wanted to go home and make sure that it all hadn't been a dream. He wanted to be reassured that he wasn't going to be rejected by the only person he'd let in on his secret; wanted to know that Ed was going to stay, at least for a little while...

Roy felt like he'd really messed up. He felt embarrassed and regretful. If he could take back all that he'd told Ed last night, he would. He couldn't though, and so somehow he needed to make the best of what he had.

"You're having a productive afternoon, I see," a smooth female voice said, and Roy turned in his chair to see his first lieutenant walking toward one of his filing cabinets with a couple of files in her hands.

"I'm thinking of how to execute my grand plan to rule the world," he countered, but the banter sounded forced to his own ears; and, by the small frown she gave him, Hawkeye must have thought so too.

For a moment, Roy wondered if she was going to go soft and ask him about his troubles; but instead, she gave him a small smirk and said, "How about starting small and working your way up."

"As in Amestris?" Roy replied, not in the mood to joke, but not wanting to bring his personal life to the office either.

Hawkeye pointed to the mess of forms and folders that littered his desk. "As in the building reports."

Roy lifted one of his legs and rested the ankle on his knee as he sat back easily in his chair. "I'll get them done," he said lightly with a yawn. He always got his work done. "After I take a nap..."

Shaking her head, Hawkeye bent down and began putting the folders away in the filing cabinet. Roy eyed her rear idly; and, not for the first time, wished that he could make himself like women. Maybe if he did, he would ask her out; rules against fraternization be damned. He and Hawkeye got along amazingly well, in the office and out, and he was pretty sure that she would agree to date him if he asked... But he wouldn't ask because he knew that all he felt for her was friendship, and it wouldn't be fair to her if he pretended he had any further interest than that.

"Do you believe in love, Lieutenant?" he asked suddenly, then instantly wished he hadn't.

She sat back on her heals and turned her upper body and head so that she could look at him. Her deep brown eyes studied him intently for almost a minute, and it took a lot of effort on his part to look at her steadily and not squirm in his seat. The silence was unsettling and the rain pelting the window suddenly sounded much louder than it had a moment before.

"I don't know," she said softly. It seemed as if she wanted to say more, but instead she simply waited. She wouldn't pry, it wasn't her way; and besides, he was her superior... But he also knew that she was willing to listen if he needed to talk.

He _did_ need to talk... but he was also uncomfortable with bringing personal matters to work with him and sought a way to escape. Glancing at his desk, Roy's eyes rested on the East City Tribune. He slowly picked it up and began flipping through a few pages as if the conversation had no real meaning to him, but was simply a passing thought.

A moment later the sound of her messing with the files met his ears, and he glanced over the paper to see that she was no longer looking at him. Roy returned his gaze back to the newspaper and tried to forget that he'd asked the question, but the black print seemed to mix together in his vision and he just couldn't concentrate.

Finally, he asked, "Do you believe that there is someone out there for everyone?" Roy tried to keep his eyes on the paper, but they slid involuntarily over the top of the newspaper and rested on her back.

Again, there was silence in the room except for the ever present rain on the window, then she said, "No, I don't."

Roy let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He felt so... disappointed... though he didn't know why. Perhaps it was because Hawkeye was always so sure of herself and about the things around her that if she said it was so, then it would be.

She shut whatever drawer had been open; and, when she stood, Roy forced his gaze back to the newspaper. He heard her boots click on the floor as she walked toward the door, then they stopped.

"I believe," she began slowly, then paused as if she were unsure if she should say what was on her mind. "I believe that most of the time it just comes down to luck. Maes and Gracia Hughes, they were lucky. Fate put them together; they were meant for each other... Most of us aren't that lucky. Some will find people who they at least like and think they'll be able to get along with, but the rest of us..."

She trailed off, and Roy pulled his gaze away from the paper and let it settle, once again, on her back; unconsciously aware that he was hanging on her words like a drowning man to a lifeline.

"The unlucky ones..." she finally said. "Well, they'll end up alone. Or worse," she said quietly. "They'll fall in love with people they can't have..." She stopped, then shook her head. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is, we can't wait for fate to hand 'the one' over to us. Those who take chances just might end up happy, or they might not, but if you don't try for something, you'll always wonder..." There was silence in the room once again, then she walked over to the door and opened it.

"Lieutenant," Roy said quickly, and she stopped once more. He swallowed, before saying quietly, "Thank you..." Her hand tightened slightly on the doorknob and she gave a curt nod, then she was gone.

He sighed heavily, then folded the newspaper and set it by the telephone. Turning his chair to face the desk, Roy opened a folder and stared dully down at it before turning his chair back to face the window. He wasn't going to get anything done today; he knew it, Hawkeye knew it. The least he could do was _look_ busy, but he just didn't have it in him today.

* * *

"You know who you look like?"

Ed glanced up from where he'd been inspecting the money Roy had given him and stared blankly at the girl at the cash register. She was young, probably in her early twenties, with auburn hair that barely touched her shoulders, deep green eyes, and a brilliant smile.

"No idea," Ed murmured, then looked back down at the bills, trying to come up with the closest amount to what he was being charged.

"You look like Edward Elric," she said with a laugh. "I mean, not exactly. You're taller, older, you wear your hair differently; and your clothes, that's different too."

Ed glanced up slightly and said wryly, "Is this Edward Elric someone I should know?"

The girl flashed another bright smile and said, "Well, probably not, since you're obviously not from Amestris, but the resemblance is uncanny. You should look him up sometime. He's sort of a hero out here in the East, even though he's in the military. I'm sure he'd be easy to find."

"Edward Elric. I'll remember that," Ed muttered, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

"'The Fullmetal Alchemist', that's his title. Lots of people just know him by that, so don't forget it."

Ed only nodded as he finally put together the amount he wanted and handed it over to the girl. She took it, but instead of putting the money away, she continued to stare at him for a moment before saying in a more subdued tone, "But you know what?"

"What?" Ed asked when it became obvious that she wasn't going to continue until he said something.

"It's your eyes..." she said breathily.

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your eyes... Ed Elric is the only one I've ever seen with eyes that color. Yours are exactly the same... It's... well..." She blushed deeply, then turned away to put the money in the register and to pull out the change he was owed.

Ed stuffed the leftover bills in his pocket and silently willed her to hurry. He didn't remember ever meeting this girl, but then he'd met a lot of people in his travels, and it had been a very long time since he'd been in Amestris. Suddenly, the only thing he wanted was to get back to the apartment and hide away. If this girl, who most likely had only seen the Fullmetal Alchemist a few times, could put him and his younger self together, then he was sure others could—and would—too.

The questions he would get and the mess it could cause if people knew he was, in fact, Edward Elric... well, it could get very ugly and he didn't want that. What would happen if his mere presence somehow changed what had happened in the past? What sort of repercussions would it cause? The possibilities and theories made his head spin.

She handed him back his change with a shy, "Come back again," and he practically fled the grocery store with his purchases. He was sure that was a very normal thing to say to the customers, but not the _way_ she'd said it.

The realization that by leaving the house and venturing out into public he was taking a huge risk made him want to run, but he knew that would only draw more attention his way. Not that there were many people about on such a dull and dreary day, but still...

Forcing himself to settle on a quick walk, Ed tried to think about his options. He had no idea how long he would be here, or _how_ he'd gotten here for that matter. There really was nowhere he could go in Amestris where people wouldn't think of how much he looked like his younger self...

Thunder boomed overhead and suddenly the rain became a torrent. Feeling that any sane person without an umbrella would run in this weather, Ed tightened his grip on the sack and quickened his pace to a fast run.

Roy knew who he was... Last night Ed had figured that as long as he didn't mention anything that hadn't happened yet, then it was fine, but he'd also been tired and not really thinking straight. How would Roy knowing about him this change the future? Would it? Should he leave? But if he did, where would he go? He'd still have to earn money to live; still have to go to a market to buy food. He'd still be seen... _Someone_ was bound to figure out who he was.

Ed only stopped running when he reached the apartment building and let himself inside, but he didn't relax until he was safely hidden inside of Roy's apartment with the door locked—for his own peace of mind—behind him.

Huffing slightly from the run, Ed set the bag on the counter, then pulled off his coat and hung it on the coat rack. _I'm getting old..._ he thought wryly. He wasn't nearly as physically active as he used to be, and he was pretty sure that was more of a reason for his being out of breath than his age. But, he had a habit of blaming everything on his age now.

It had started as a way to subtly irritate the older professors when he'd first started working at the university. He'd been so young; much too young for the position, but his brilliance had gotten him the job. In fact, even after all these years, he was _still_ the youngest professor employed there.

With a heavy sigh, Ed wandered over to the couch—he'd folded the bed back into a couch after Roy had gone—and slowly sank into the cushions before letting his head fall back and closing his eyes.

It didn't seem real; none of it. He felt as though he was stuck in a dream, and it made him nostalgic, excited, sad, frightened, and nervous all at the same time. He'd already reconciled long ago that he would never see his homeland again; yet, somehow, here he was, in East City... in _Roy Mustang's apartment_ of all places...

_Roy Mustang..._ Ed thought as he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Moving his head from where it was laying against the back of the couch, Ed looked around the small studio apartment with a frown.

All the memories he had of the man consisted of a snide and arrogant colonel constantly poking fun at him, making things hard for him, and doing things that pissed Ed off with a vengeance.

Yet...

Ed glanced over at the telephone which sat on Roy's desk, thinking of the phone call from the night before. Well... Perhaps not _all_ the memories he had of Roy Mustang were like that, he amended. There had been the time he and Al were on the run and the colonel had been mad because they hadn't asked for his help. And then, of course, how could he forget... there had been that talk in the car... the talk before he'd confronted Dante and the homunculi... Before he'd died...

He shivered at the thought and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Old memories... Yet, now Ed had to wonder how accurate they were. He'd been so young and hadn't had the benefit of years like he did now. He'd been a different person...

The clock on the wall chimed, and Ed glanced at it before looking toward the kitchen. When should he start dinner? He realized that he didn't even know what time Roy got off work... He'd never stuck around the office long enough to find out when _anyone_ got off work, or when they went to work... Ed shook his head at himself. Roy had been right about him not really knowing what went on there.

Well, he supposed it didn't really matter if he started dinner early. It had to cook for a few hours anyway... Ed lightly scratched his head, then smoothed back his still damp hair before getting up and wandering toward the kitchen.

He hadn't made this recipe in... well, a very long time because Europe didn't have all the same vegetables that Amestris had, and vice versa. Ed began pulling food out of the bag. The first time he'd tried to make this recipe was when he'd been living with Alfons. It had been... well... atrocious probably came close, but with the war going on and the country in the middle of a hyperinflation nightmare, they hadn't been able to afford throwing it away...

Ed smiled a little at the memory of Alfons suggesting they use it for rocket fuel on their next test run, then the smile slipped away. Except for missing his brother and being desperate to find a way home, Ed had been happy living with Alfons. They'd gotten along for the most part, and... well... he'd just felt comfortable with him...

Shaking his head as if to clear the melancholy memories from his mind, Ed pulled out a few drawers to find a knife, then glanced back to the vegetables he hadn't had in so many years. No, it wasn't a dream. It was real... Feeling resigned, Ed began to work as his mind reminiscenced on the past and the future, and what it all meant for him now.

* * *


	4. Portrayal of Desire

—

**Mirrors of Yesterday**

**IV**

**Portrayal of Desire**

—  
When Roy opened the door, his mouth instantly began to salivate. He'd been hungry before he came home, but the delicious smells in his apartment only served to make him acutely aware that he'd hardly eaten at all today.

He let himself in and shut the door as his eyes quickly settled to where Ed was sitting on the couch and reading a book. Roy only had a moment to take in the studious look of concentration that was painted on Ed's face before the man marked his spot with a finger and glanced up at him. Golden eyes scrutinized him silently before moving to look at the clock, then back to him.

"What time do you usually get off work?" Ed asked, the unknown accent threading through his speech in a way that made Roy think he could listen to Ed talk all day. The accent wasn't so thick that Ed was hard to understand, but was heavy enough that it was definitely noticeable.

Roy took a moment to take in how Ed was dressed. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to just above his elbows and his hair, which had been gathered at the nape of his neck the day before, was pulled up into a high ponytail.

"Six," he finally answered, moving his gaze from Ed as he put the umbrella away and shucked off his overcoat. After hanging the coat up, Roy breathed in deeply through his nose and said, "Smells good."

Ed opened the book again, and grunted, "Thanks," before turning his attention back to what he was reading.

_Well... that went well..._ Roy thought wryly as he turned and made his way into the small kitchen. On the stove was a pot that, until now, he'd forgotten he owned. There was a lid on it and Roy debated silently with himself about whether it would be okay if he looked inside.

"Hungry?" a voice said beside him, and Roy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to hide the fact that Ed had startled him.

"No, actually, I just thought I'd see if what you made was edible," Roy said smoothly, then cringed inwardly. This wasn't the Ed he was used to, and the last thing he wanted to do was offend—especially since he wanted Ed to stay...

Not turning his head, Roy moved his gaze to where Ed was standing beside him. The look Ed was giving him almost made him laugh. It was the same look Fullmetal gave him when he'd been had and was trying to think of a good comeback.

Finally, Ed cleared his throat and said mildly, "Even if it's not, I'm sure it's the best this pot has ever cooked." And with that, Ed pulled off the lid and began to stir.

Roy smirked, feeling a little relieved that Ed was still Ed, despite how much older he was. Oh, of course, the response hadn't been quite the cocky and snide one his teenage subordinate would have given, but rather the banter one would expect from someone more mature—and really, it was more befitting of this Ed.

Grabbing one of the two bowls that were sitting on the counter, Ed ladled out a thick, brown liquid with chunks of what looked to be vegetables and meat. Without a word, Ed turned and held the bowl out. Roy picked up one of the spoons from the counter, took the bowl, and slowly stirred before taking a bite.

It was good—better than good, it was amazing. He looked to Ed, who was waiting with an expectant look on his face, then said, "Okay, it's edible. You can stop looking at me like you're waiting to see if I'm going to die or not."

Ed smiled and gave a good-natured chuckle before dishing some up for himself. Without taking his eyes from him, Roy slowly took another bite and wondered what Ed really thought of him. So far, they'd kept the mood light, but how long would that last?

Taking a bite of his own stew, Ed made a small 'mmm' sound, then glanced around. "Where do you usually eat?" he asked, obviously wanting to sit down.

"At the cafeteria," Roy grunted, then walked over to the couch and sat down. "Sorry." Ed glanced briefly at the paper covered desk as if wondering what kind of table it would make, then shrugged and took a seat on the other side of the couch.

They ate in silence, and Roy tried to imagine what could be going on in Ed's mind. It was nerve-wracking, really. Normally, he didn't worry too much about what people thought of him. After all, he was handsome, brilliant, talented, and could put on a great show of being flirtatious with the ladies to avoid any suspicion that he was anything but a ladies man. Of course, he cared what his superior officers thought of him because he wanted to be promoted, but even then he was acting; pretending to be loyal.

But now... Now, he'd let someone in on his secrets; and not just anyone, but someone he wanted... someone who shouldn't even be here... and, worst of all, someone who probably would never want him in return.

He took another bite and stared dully down at his food.

Roy had always suspected that one day he'd fall for someone that he couldn't have, but he would have never, in his wildest dreams, believed he'd fall for Edward Elric. He glanced over at Ed, who seemed to be absorbed in eating his food. This man, this Edward... he wasn't the same. It wasn't Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist that Roy had fallen for. Fullmetal was much too young for his taste; much too wild, cocky, and bratty.

This wasn't to say that he didn't care for Fullmetal... Roy glanced over at the photograph on his desk of the boy and his brother. The truth was that Roy felt more like an older brother to the two boys than anything else... He felt protective over them, wanted to help them, yet still liked to tease them when he could.

Roy looked down at his bowl again with a frown. He didn't feel that way toward this man; this Edward Elric. The man wasn't the boy he knew. This man... yes, he _was_ Ed, but he _wasn't_ Fullmetal. This Edward still had obvious 'Ed' traits. He was intelligent, witty... his basic looks—blond hair, gold eyes, a little on the short side—were the same as Fullmetal's, but there were fundamental differences.

This Ed was much mellower, and had a deepness that Fullmetal lacked. His mannerisms were more mature, the way he held himself, his hair style, his clothing, even his accent was different...

Roy resisted the urge to look at Ed and took another bite. So far, there was no sign that Ed was revolted by what he'd learned last night, and Roy wondered briefly if Ed even remembered what had happened—after all, they'd both been drinking—but then dismissed the thought. If Ed didn't remember, then Roy was sure the man would have been a little more alarmed at finding himself in bed with him.

The desire to look at Ed finally won out and Roy lifted his gaze from his bowl to see that he was being stared at. His gaze fixed on Ed's for a moment, then, not wanting the moment to become awkward, Roy said, "This is really good."

"Thanks..." Ed murmured, idly moving his spoon around in his bowl. "It's actually my mother's recipe; though..." His voice became thoughtful. "Pinako made it the same way, so I don't know... maybe it was hers first..." He shrugged as if it was of little consequence. "I haven't been able to make it properly for a long time. I've had to substitute some of the ingredients..."

"Because of where you've been?" Roy asked interestedly. Obviously, Ed had been living somewhere other than Amestris for quite some time; long enough to acquire the accent in any case.

Instead of answering, Ed lowered the bowl to his lap and stared down at it in silence for almost a full minute before saying, "It's probably best if I don't tell you anything... It's possible that I could be changing the future right now, just by the fact that I'm here and talking with you..." His voice trailed off, and Roy thought he seemed dejected, and maybe even a little lost sounding.

"I've actually been thinking about this a lot today," Ed finally said, still looking down at the bowl in his lap. "I've been wondering if I should leave. You know, go somewhere else until I'm able to return to where I belong."

At that, Roy's heart sank and his stomach clenched. He felt a sudden and insane urge to beg Ed to stay, to plead with him, or even to try arguing with him, but it wasn't his place, and that wasn't how he worked, so he simply waited. Ed had quite a few good points, ones that Roy had thought briefly about himself. He didn't know what the future held, but Ed did; and if he thought it was best to go, then that was what would have to happen.

Ed glanced at him and Roy imagined that he saw a pleading look there as well. Finally, Ed said, "The problem is that leaving could also cause difficulties..." He shook his head, looked back down at the bowl and sighed heavily. "The truth is that I really don't know what the right answer is."

Roy blinked. _Ed_ was admitting he didn't know something? But, then again, he had to remind himself that this Ed was much more mature than the one he knew. Roy still had problems admitting when he didn't know something, but he was getting much better at it. A small smile briefly touched his lips as he thought that maybe when he was Ed's age he'd be better.

The silence stretched out over a couple minutes and finally Roy decided that Ed was finished, so he said, "Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, but I'll understand if you have to go..." He trailed off as a lump formed in his throat.

Maybe this was all just an excuse to leave that didn't involve what had happened last night. He normally wouldn't believe that Ed would have that kind of tact, but he might believe it of this Ed. This Ed wasn't Fullmetal...

"No matter your reason," Roy said. "If you need to go, then I won't hold it against you." He stood and walked to the kitchen, where he rinsed out his dish and left it in the sink. The sound of Ed scraping the last of the stew from his bowl met his ears, but Roy tried not to think about that, about what he'd just said, or about last night. Instead he tried to decide if he wanted coffee or liquor—it was a safe thing to think about...

He could hear Ed getting off the couch and coming up behind him. Roy's body instinctively wanted to stiffen at the closeness, but he forced himself to stay relaxed—at least outwardly. He listened to Ed rinse out his bowl, and when the water was off, Roy asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

"It's not about you," Ed said shortly.

"I never said it was," Roy answered easily, then reached up for the alcohol. "Will this be fine for an after dinner drink?" He turned and gave Ed a neutral look. "I have coffee or tea as well, if you'd prefer."

Ed's lips pressed together and Roy was sure the man was also clenching his jaw. He was used to seeing that expression on Fullmetal's face as well, though the teen tended to be more petulant than what his older counterpart was being.

"I simply said that I would understand if you had to go. Now, if _you_ are having some sort of problem with me, then you'd better come out and say it," Roy countered easily. Of course, he wasn't exactly being fair, as Ed obviously saw right through what he'd said.

"I don't have a problem with _you_," Ed said, anger threading through his voice. "This isn't about you, and it's not about me. It's about changing things that shouldn't be changed. It's bigger than you or me. I know you understand these things because we've talked about it before." Roy raised an eyebrow at that and Ed broke off with an angry curse as he must have realized that whatever conversation he was talking about hadn't happened as of yet for Roy. "You see? What if I make a slip like that, but _worse_? If me being here causes you to treat me—my younger self—differently, then it could change history!"

Roy set the bottle down on the counter and folded his arms before saying irritably, "Do you really think that you're so important that history will be permanently scarred because you're here? As you said, it's not all about one person."

Ed opened his mouth, then shut it for a moment before opening it again and saying, "Yes, but it's _my_ history..." His voice was no longer angry, but held a desperate note to it; a pleading to be understood, and suddenly Roy felt ashamed. Ed looked away; obviously uncomfortable with the fact that he was showing such weakness and also embarrassed that he'd just contradicted himself so badly.

"Don't worry about it," Roy said softly, then, on impulse, unfolded his arms and rested a hand on one of Ed's shoulders. "Yes, it's not all about you and not all about me, but... Perhaps we're all entitled to a bit of selfishness here and there."

For a moment, Roy thought that Ed would shrug his hand off, but he didn't. Instead he, kept his gaze away and murmured, "I thought I'd gotten over it being all about me... I thought I'd grown out of it..."

Roy shook his head. "I think we all retain a little bit of selfishness, no matter how old we get."

"Maybe..." Ed said quietly, then shook his head. "You must think I'm some sort of fool."

Roy raised an eyebrow at the fact that Ed seemed concerned with how he looked in Roy's eyes, when Roy was so concerned about what Ed thought of him. "No, I don't," he murmured, then gently squeezed Ed's shoulder. When Ed glanced up at him, Roy said softly, "I think you must be human."

Ed seemed to digest this for a moment, as if it was one of the most profound things anyone had said to him, then, without warning, he began to laugh. Covering his face with one hand, Ed shook his head.

"You're definitely not the man I remember you being," Ed said, still laughing. Roy frowned, not exactly sure if he should be offended by this or not. The laughing died to a small chuckle, and Ed dropped the hand from his face, studying Roy for a moment before saying, "Don't give me that look. It's not a bad thing, it's... well..."

Ed turned a little so that he could lean back against the sink, then he folded his arms and gave Roy a bemused look. "All those years... I guess I only saw what you wanted me to see," Ed murmured and shook his head a little. "I was an inconsiderate ass, both then and just now, and I apologize."

Feeling a little uncomfortable now that the topic of discussion was him, Roy grabbed the bottle and said, "How about a drink?" _Or two, or three..._ Ed nodded his head, then wandered back to the couch where he plopped down and rested his head on the back of the sofa.

Letting his eyes wander over Ed's body, Roy took a moment to appreciate the sight before turning to pour a drink for each of them. What would they talk about now? Should he bring up the topic of Ed staying with him for a while, or maybe he should just leave it alone... He didn't really want to talk about himself, but he also wanted to know what Ed thought of what he'd said last night...

Roy grunted and told himself to be honest. What he really wanted to know was if Ed would consider being with him... Though, in what way? He'd told Ed it wasn't _all_ about sex, and that was true, but... _Be honest with yourself, _Roy thought as he put the cap back on the bottle. _You want sex._

Just the thought of it made his body react, and as he put the bottle away, he tried to argue with himself. _I want a relationship too. I want someone to hold and be with. I want love... _He paused in his thoughts, then conceded,_ And sex..._

Yeah, he wanted all that other stuff, of course he did, he craved it desperately, but right now, at this moment, he wanted sex. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to walk over to Ed and run his hands all over his body. There was no point in trying to argue with himself. He knew it was true, _but_ he wasn't going to get it... He should just be content that Ed didn't hate and despise him and let it go... but it was so damn hard...

Picking up the two glasses, Roy walked over to the couch and handed one to Ed before sitting down. He took a small sip, trying to think of something to talk about, but everything he came up with either seemed like a lame conversation topic or was an awkward subject that he had no desire to try breaching right now.

In the corner of his eye, Roy saw Ed take a sip and shift a little to get more comfortable. He was staring straight ahead at the bookcase, and Roy wondered if Ed was just as uncomfortable with the silence as he was.

Roy let his own gaze move around the small apartment. It would probably be better to say that his living space was 'tiny' instead of 'small', but it didn't really matter. He really didn't need more space than this, given that he spent most of his time at work anyway, and what time he did actually spend here was either at his desk or sleeping. It was a good place for a bachelor like himself, but how well would it work for two people?

He took a sip and thought about Ed's words. He'd thought of leaving, but he'd said it was because he didn't want to mess up the future. He didn't want his younger self to be treated any differently...

Clearing his throat, Roy said, "You don't have to worry about me treating your younger self any different than what I do now." He glanced over at Ed to see that the man was giving him a silent, questioning look. Feeling that Ed wanted more of an explanation, Roy continued.

"You're not the same, the two of you. I don't think of you as the same person. I know up here..." He tapped his forehead. "...that you're the same person, but..." He trailed off and shook his head. "To me, you're not the same person." Ed stared at him in thoughtful silence for a moment, as if trying to digest what he'd just heard, then took a sip and stared down at his glass.

"Ed..." Roy said quietly. He wondered if the longing in his voice was just as obvious to Ed as it was to him. When Ed slowly lifted his gaze, Roy continued in the same soft voice. "Please... don't go. If you're worried about changing things, then stay here. Let me hide you until you're able to go back to where you belong. I want to help you."

Ed opened his mouth, then closed it again before looking back down. Roy felt himself deflate, and he took a long pull from the glass. Had he said too much? Had he pushed too far? His words left an echo of desperation in his own ears; his tone flaunting his pathetic loneliness...

"Why?" Ed asked, breaking into his thoughts. "If you don't see me and my younger self as the same person, then why would you want to help me? I'm practically a stranger to you."

Roy glanced at Ed, then away. It was a good question, and one that he was sure Ed knew the answer to. In a weak attempt to save himself, Roy said, "Well, you're technically the same person, and we do know each other..."

"No, we don't..." Ed murmured. "You know who I used to be. You knew me when I was a child, but you don't know me now. I... well, I worked under you when I was younger, but I'm finding out that I really didn't know you either. We were associated with each other, but we never really _knew_ each other."

Roy turned his head slightly and looked at Ed silently. "But now," Ed said. "We don't know each other. Not really. I'm a man now. I've lived a life that you'll never know—one you'll never understand. And you... well... you're not the man I thought I knew. You're so... _different_. You're..."

Ed grimaced a little and his eyes took on a searching look as if he was trying to find the right words. "You _are_ the same as I remember. I mean, I heard you talking on the phone with my younger self, and _that_ was who I remember."

Taking a sip, Ed cleared his throat, then continued. "I suppose now that I think about it, I _did_ have glimpses of the real you from time to time..." His eyes took on a slightly far away look, and Roy was sure he was remembering something, though he doubted Ed would tell him if he asked. Finally, Ed came back to the present and said, "But... it wasn't like this, like now. You... you're not..."

Ed floundered with his words for a moment, then finally settled on, "Maybe I see you differently now that I'm a man, or perhaps it's because I'm older than you right now... I don't know..." He shook his head, and murmured, "I just don't know..."

Roy studied Ed for a moment, then downed the rest of his drink, stood up, and moved over to the kitchen. Maybe Ed really didn't know, after all, he was in a situation that was unusual and bizarre. How often did it happen that you were stuck in your past? But Roy couldn't help feeling as if Ed's reluctance had to do with what had happened between them the night before. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but why shouldn't he be? After all, people 'like him' weren't exactly welcome with most people.

He set the glass by the sink before retrieving a candle from one of the drawers, setting it in a holder, and lighting it. The only electric light in his apartment was in the kitchen, and it cost too much to keep it on for long periods of time. Besides, in the small town he'd grown up in, there had been no electric lights. That was a city thing, not a country thing, so he was used to using candles.

Picking up the candle holder, Roy turned off the kitchen light before walking over to his desk and setting the holder down. He took a deep breath, then said as professionally as he could, "I have quite a bit of work to do, Ed. If you're tired, you can pull out the bed." He paused, then said, "I'll find a place on the floor when I get too tired."

"I'm not kicking you out of your bed. I'll sleep on the floor," Ed said stubbornly.

Roy turned and looked at Ed before saying, "You're my guest, and it would be bad manners if I had you sleep on the floor."

"Well, if I'm going to be living here for a while, that means I'm not a guest," Ed countered, his voice holding a stubborn note.

"I believe we already had this discussion," Roy said, folding his arms and giving Ed the most condescending look he could come up with.

In return, Ed stood up, set his glass down on the desk, and stepped in front of Roy before folding his own arms. His jaw was set in that mulish way that Ed had about him, and as much as Ed seemed to be trying to stare him down, Roy couldn't help noticing how the candle light made Ed's golden eyes glow in a way that mesmerized him. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Ed's face, and he yearned to bend down and press his lips against Ed's.

"Mustang..." Ed growled in a way that was very Fullmetal-like. "We _didn't_ come to an agreement last night."

"Yes, we did," Roy said smoothly. "We shared, but I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or make you feel like you're any less of a man by sleeping in the same bed as me." Roy wanted to drop his head into his hands in embarrassment. This was _not_ Fullmetal, and he shouldn't be making childish challenges.

Ed's eyes widened a fraction, then they narrowed; and, despite his embarrassment, Roy couldn't help letting himself smirk a little. So... Ed was still the type of person who didn't take well to being challenged. He supposed some things never changed, and maybe that was a good thing...

Or maybe it wasn't, Roy thought as Ed turned quickly and began tossing the couch cushions on the floor. Ed didn't seem to be too pleased with him... After pulling the couch out into a bed, Ed turned and said coolly, "I do _not_ have a problem sleeping in the same bed as you, and I do not have issues with my masculinity. After all, I've slept with plenty of men."

Ed stopped as he realized what he'd said, then closed his mouth and took a deep breath through his nose, making his nostrils flare, before pointing at Roy and saying with embarrassment threaded through his voice, "Not like that."

Roy raised an eyebrow and said, "I didn't say anything."

Ed opened his mouth, then shut it again and looked away. "Look..." Ed trailed off, then scrubbed a hand over his face. "I've slept in the same bed with a few different men in my life, but that's all it was—sleeping..." To Roy, it sounded like Ed was making excuses, sounded as if he was trying to avoid something, but he didn't want to interrupt. "It was a necessity. I don't have a problem sharing a bed with you, but that's all it is, alright?"

There was a long moment of silence before Ed turned and looked at him. Roy tried hard to keep his expression the same, but found that he couldn't, so he turned toward his desk and began to shuffle through the papers stacked there. He didn't want to show weakness...

"Sure, Ed," he replied in a businesslike manner. "If it doesn't bother you, then it doesn't bother me." He wanted to ask about the men that Ed had slept with and why it had been necessary for him to do so, but again he doubted that Ed would tell him. Right now he felt pleased that he was going to stay and that they seemed to have come to a permanent agreement on the sleeping arrangements, yet he also felt apprehensive about climbing back into the bed with Ed.

Just a sleeping arrangement... but still, it was better than nothing... Roy looked over all the work stacked up on his desk and felt little desire to go through any of it...

"You know," Ed said, and Roy almost turned to look at him, but stopped himself. "You'd probably be more productive if you had a regular sleeping schedule. A colleague of mine did a study about the effects of sleep on the body, and he came to that conclusion. From what I've seen, you're just working yourself to exhaustion, then sleeping when you have to."

"My work is my life," Roy said, moving to sit. He had goals he wanted to reach and he wanted to forget how lonely his life was—wanted to forget that he was different and that people would hate him for it if they found out. Overworking himself helped.

"I understand that, but..." Ed trailed off, then said, changing the subject, "Do you have a place I can hang my clothes? I don't like leaving them piled on the floor, and since these are the only ones I have right now, I'd like to keep them as neat as possible."

Roy waved a hand in the general direction of the small closet between the coat rack and the first of the bookcases. "There are hangers in there. Feel free to use whatever space is available."

There was another moment of silence in which Roy began scanning a report. He wanted to get his mind off of Ed and the fact that he couldn't have him. After a minute, he heard the closet door open and a rattling as Ed grabbed one of the hangers. "I don't sleep well when someone else is up," Ed complained.

"From what I've seen, you can sleep anywhere," Roy countered as he slipped his glasses on. Why did they make the print so small anyway...?

"You may not have noticed, but I'm not as young as I used to be," Ed said wryly as he shut the closet door.

"I'd noticed something like that," Roy said. Picturing Ed in his mind, the desire to touch him flared hot and sudden; making him squirm slightly in his chair. His body didn't seem to understand the complexity of the situation he was in...

He heard Ed grumbling something, but it sounded like gibberish to him, then the bathroom door shut, leaving him in silence for a few moments. Roy sighed heavily and shook his head as he began scanning another mundane request. For someone who didn't seem too keen on sharing the same bed, Ed was certainly adamant about him going to bed at the same time. Though it could be just as Ed had said about him not sleeping well when others were up, but it was hard to believe. Roy had often seen Ed sleeping next to his brother on a floor or on a couch, while Alphonse, who couldn't sleep, continued researching.

The sound of the bathroom door opening met his ears, before Ed said, "Fine, stay up, but don't expect me to take care of you when you get sick because you've worked too hard."

Roy turned slowly in his chair to look at Ed, who was now burrowing under the covers with his back toward him. _What is that all about?_ he wondered in bemusement. "Yes, mother," he said and felt a little amused at the small rumble coming from Ed.

Turning back to his desk, Roy lost himself in his work. He was interrupted twice by Ed tossing and turning in his sleep, and murmuring something. The third time it happened, Roy decided he'd call it quits for the night. Maybe Ed really didn't sleep well when others were up, or perhaps it was something else; but whatever it was, Roy didn't need a grouchy Ed on his hands tomorrow.

Standing up, Roy stretched and looked at the clock. It was two o' clock in the morning. He wandered to the kitchen and put the now cold pot of stew in the fridge before undressing and getting ready for bed.

After blowing out the candle, Roy stood by the bed, staring down at it for several minutes, then finally crawled under the covers. He turned his head and stared in Ed's direction. While he _was_ tired, he was also aroused at being in the same bed with Ed again, and he wondered if he should go take care of himself so that he didn't do something he'd regret. But, at that moment, Ed turned and laid his arm across Roy's chest while snuggling up to him.

Roy groaned inwardly because now if he wanted to get up, he'd have to move Ed's arm, and he didn't want to do that. Turning his head, Roy gazed at Ed's sleeping face in the darkness. _Why did it have to be you?_ he wondered. His base instincts were pulsing and throbbing through his body, and his mind was trying to convince him that he should just do what he wanted. Ed was a man, and what man wouldn't enjoy some sexual attention? But then, what would happen afterward? The situation would be so awkward... and then, Ed might decide to leave. He really didn't want Ed to leave...

In the end, he decided to try ignoring his need in favor of just being close to Ed. He slipped an arm under Ed's neck, wrapped his other arm around his body, and held him near. On impulse, Roy softly pressed his lips against Ed's forehead, savoring the feel of his skin beneath his lips. He wanted to do more than that. He wanted to let his hands wander—wanted to take advantage of the situation—but again he held himself back. Ed was obviously not interested, and he wasn't the type of man to force someone against their will...

He lay awake for a long time as he thought about the situation he was in and what the best way to deal with it would be. How would he hide Ed when the man's younger self was such a recognizable character? How would he be able to live with Ed, knowing there was no chance they'd ever be able to get together? Would he do something stupid and make Ed want to leave? He'd never felt this way about anyone... How could he keep himself from looking like a fool?

As Roy finally began to doze off, he realized there had been no tossing and turning, and no murmuring, from Ed. He was sleeping peacefully now, and Roy wondered again if it really was true that Ed had a hard time sleeping when others were awake. He thought about Fullmetal and about the times he'd seen the boy sleeping with plenty of other people around. He hadn't had too much of a problem at those times.

Then it dawned on him. Each time he'd seen Ed asleep, he'd had some sort of physical contact with his brother. Perhaps it wasn't the fact of other people being awake and doing things that was the problem, he thought. Perhaps Ed simply had a hard time sleeping alone. He tried to dwell on it more, but his body was too tired and it wasn't long before he fell into a deep and restful sleep.

* * *

Well, here's chapter four. I'd planned on having it out sooner, but I've been really busy lately. I hope this chapter was worth waiting for. :)


	5. Counterfeit Image

**A/N: **Please note that time starts to speed up about this time in the story. There will be larger time gaps in the remaining chapters.  
—

**Mirrors of Yesterday**

**V**

**Counterfeit Image **

—  
Roy sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and stared blandly at the short teenager standing in front of his desk. White and blue paint was smeared on Edward Elric's clothing, in his hair, and on parts of his face—a face that held a defiant look to it. Alphonse Elric also had smears of paint along the smooth metallic surface of the armor his soul was attached to. The younger of the two boys held his hands in front of himself in a way that radiated embarrassment and regret.

Sighing, Roy shook his head. "I'm very disappointed in both of you," he said gravely. It was something that he said just about every time the two boys got into some sort of trouble that could have been avoided with a little foresight.

"Who the hell cares what _you_ think?" Fullmetal said with a roll of his eyes.

At the same time, Alphonse bowed and said quickly, "We're really sorry, Colonel!"

The two boys looked at each other, and for a moment there was silence as if they were having a mental conversation with each other. Finally, Edward grunted, glared back at Roy with a stubborn look, and said in a grudgingly 'nice' tone, "I already know what you're going to say..."

"Do you?" Roy asked mildly, wondering how Fullmetal could be such a brat and grow up to be so sophisticated.

"You want me to fix the mess," Fullmetal said with a roll of his eyes, then glanced at his brother. It was obvious Edward wasn't being so cooperative for Roy's sake.

He nodded. "Very good, Fullmetal. There might be hope for you yet." He looked at Alphonse. "I think that—"

"You can't tell my brother what to do," Edward broke in hotly. "_I'm_ the one in the military." It was true, of course, but Roy felt that, being the adult and being in charge, he had the right to tell Alphonse what to do when he caused mischief in his department.

"But, brother..." Alphonse said in a slightly whining voice. "I..."

"I'll take care of this," Fullmetal said in a tone that left little room for argument. "You should go clean yourself up. I don't want to hear you complain later if you start to rust."

Roy frowned. There was something oddly familiar about the way Edward was talking to his brother... But then, Ed often bossed Al around in a way that suggested he was trying to take care of him. Roy listened to the two boys squabble for a minute, then slammed his hand against the desk. The two fell silent and looked at him.

"Both of you are alchemists," he said tightly. "Both of you caused the problem. I expect _both_ of you to fix it." Edward opened his mouth to say something, but Roy cut him off. "Now!" he commanded irritably.

Fullmetal glared at him, then growled, "Come on, Al. Let's get out of here. The old man obviously needs his nap."

"Ehh..." Al said before bowing to Roy and saying in a sheepish tone, "Sorry about brother..." then hurried after Edward. The door shut and Roy rubbed his eyes wearily before glancing at the clock. Only another thirty minutes to go...

* * *

Ed shifted on the concrete step and pulled the wide-brimmed hat lower to hide his face from the passerby. He had a wonderful view of the pedestrian's legs and feet, and it was obvious that the person was a woman. She was wearing a skirt that went to her knees and black high-heels. He allowed himself to enjoy the look of her long legs before she left his vision. He sighed and turned his attention back down the sidewalk the woman had just come from.

It was a hot, sunny day, and the wide-brimmed hat had two functions: one, to keep the sun out of his eyes; and two, to hide his face from view. For the past month, Ed had stayed mostly inside. He'd gotten enough comments about looking like the Fullmetal Alchemist that he decided it was best if he simply stayed away from the general public. After all, he'd go home soon, right?

Only, he _hadn't_ gone home. Each day, Ed expected that at some point he would 'magically' find himself back in the other world. He'd just assumed it would happen that way, since that seemed to be how he'd come to be here. As the days passed, Ed had tried to find a way to remember how he'd gotten here, but the only thing his mind conjured up was an image of a car, the sound of breaks, the car hitting him, then... nothing.

He'd joked with Roy that if he'd gotten here by having a car hit him, then perhaps he should try that again and see what happened. Roy had not been amused, and had made Ed promise not to try it. It wasn't as if he would, but he couldn't help dwelling on it. What had happened that day? When he was hit by the car, should he have died? If so, how did he get here and why was his body here too? Maybe he was dead and the punishment for his sins was to spend the rest of eternity with Roy Mustang.

Ed chuckled at the thought. That probably would be the definition of hell to his younger self, but he'd come to know the man very well over the past month; and, truthfully, Ed sort of liked him. Roy was intelligent, articulate, ready to argue if he thought he was right, and willing to admit if he was wrong... Basically, he was great company. Ed would have never believed that he'd ever admit that, but there it was. The two of them could talk for hours on end about things like theories and mathematical formulas, and Ed loved it. This was not to say they didn't have their arguments—no, to say that would definitely be inaccurate—but the arguments never lasted too long and were never really bad.

Ed looked down and picked idly at his trousers. They had other problems though... It was becoming more obvious by the day how Roy felt about him. If Ed couldn't tell by the look in Roy's eyes, he'd have to know it by the small touches every now and then. He didn't want Roy to fall for him; didn't want Roy to love him. The thought was still too bizarre, though it was becoming less so every day.

If Roy were a woman, Ed thought that he'd already be deeply in love, but he still couldn't get past Roy being a man. He did think about it sometimes, like when he was alone or in bed while being held by Roy. At those times, he thought about all the reasons Roy had given him as to why it wasn't wrong; and sometimes Ed almost believed them. It was easy to believe when you were being held by someone, especially when you longed for physical closeness. Yet, when he was alone, it was much harder to believe such reasoning. When he was alone, society's views and the taboo of it all made him squirm. He would think about two men being together in 'that way' and he just couldn't accept it.

Again, Ed pulled the hat down as another passerby—a man this time—walked by, then returned his gaze to where it had been.

Ed felt comfortable enough sleeping in the same bed with Roy and even snuggling up to him. He'd shared a bed with Alphonse growing up, and they often slept together during the time they were trying to find the Stone. When he'd found Alfons, they too had shared a bed out of necessity at times. With the economic situation being what it had been in Germany, there had rarely been extra funds for things like heat; so, even though they each had their own bed, in the winter the two of them would sleep pressed against each other for warmth.

Feeling alright about sleeping with Alphonse was easy to explain. They were brothers. It was that simple. But Alfons...

Ed looked down and plucked at his pants again.

Yes, he and Alfons slept together out of necessity at times, but they'd also slept in the same bed at times when it wasn't that cold. Sometimes they would simply hold each other in the darkness, as if that would make everything that was wrong, right. They never talked about those times and never planned them. They just happened.

It had seemed... normal, but not. Ed was sure there were people who wouldn't agree with them being so familiar with each other, but it wasn't as if they were doing anything _wrong_... They were just very close friends...

Only, looking back, Ed wasn't so sure that there wasn't more to it. He'd been so young and naïve that he hadn't understood the looks Alfons had given him sometimes. They were longing, yet fearful—they were the same looks Roy sometimes gave him—looks he hadn't really thought much of until he'd seen them on Roy's face and known what they meant...

Ed lifted his head and watched down the sidewalk again. Had Alfons been _that way_? The same as Roy? Had he wanted something more from Ed too, but had been too afraid to bring it up? Had he been afraid Ed would despise him? What if he _had_ said something? Would Ed have been disgusted? Would he have rejected Alfons? Of course, those were questions that would never be answered. Alfons was long since dead—killed because he tried to help get Ed home...

Ed rubbed at his eyes. Why would Alfons do that? Why? It was a question Ed had asked himself many times; yet if Alfons _had_ felt intimate feelings toward him, then that would be an obvious answer.

"Why does everything have to be so complicated..." Ed mumbled to himself as he dropped his hand and looked back down the sidewalk.

The most frustrating thing was that Ed had really felt comfortable with Alfons. He truly had enjoyed the life they'd lived together. In fact, he'd probably enjoyed it more than the years he'd had with his wife. _I loved my wife..._ Ed thought sadly, as if he felt the need to defend her, but he also knew that he hadn't enjoyed life with her nearly as much as he'd enjoyed living with Alfons. He and Alfons had never had sex, of course, but... if his brother had been in that world, and Alfons had still been alive, Ed believed he could have lived happily with Alfons as a forever bachelor...

_What about Roy?_ Ed thought miserably. Roy had said it wasn't _all_ about sex, and after really thinking about—especially in light of how he'd felt about Alfons—Ed could believe that two men or two women could have a relationship just as close as a man and a woman, but... it still came down to the most base thing—sex.

Without sex, wasn't the relationship only a deep and very close friendship? Roy would have to think Ed was a fool to believe he didn't want sex. What man in his right mind would want a relationship without sex? Maybe women could manage such a thing—after all, his wife seemed to have no problems going weeks on end without getting any—but for a man... hardly. Ed might not have the sexual libido he'd had as a teenager, but he still spent plenty of time getting himself off.

A man turned the corner down the sidewalk, and Ed was almost ready to pull his hat low again when he saw that it was Roy. He was tired—Ed could tell by the way he was walking—and, when he was closer, by the look on his face.

"What are you doing out here?" Roy asked when he drew near.

Ed stood and waved his hand at nothing in particular. "The weather was too nice. I couldn't resist," he said as he followed Roy into the building.

Neither of them talked again until they were inside of the apartment, then Roy said, "I thought we agreed it was too risky for you to be outside."

Ed pulled off the hat and stuck it on the coat rack. "I'm tired of being stuck inside," he said irritably. "I was being careful, so why don't you lay off. I don't need a lecture."

"Sorry," Roy grunted while unbuttoning his jacket. "I had a meeting with my youngest subordinate before I left work and it's put me in a bad mood..."

"Fine..." Ed said, waving the apology off. He always felt irritable when Roy tried to tell him what to do. He didn't do it all the time, but it happened every once in a while, and it was obvious that at those times the man wasn't seeing him as who he was now, but as his teenage self. Ed found it even more frustrating when he reacted to Roy as he would have when he was younger. It was as if it was some sort of ingrained thing for both of them, and it didn't always come out at the right time.

Roy moved into the kitchen, then said, "No dinner?"

"Leftovers," Ed grunted as he plopped down on the couch.

"How about I go pick something up for dinner?" Roy suggested, as if Ed wouldn't get the hint that he hadn't particularly enjoyed what had been cooked yesterday and didn't relish the thought of eating it again.

"We have food," Ed grunted. Having lived through many hard times in Germany, Ed worked hard to never waste any food. When money was worthless, and there wasn't enough to eat, you ate what you had and wasted nothing—not food, not clothing, not energy.

He picked up a book and opened it, but didn't bother reading it. Instead he thought about what he planned on suggesting as soon as Roy settled down. That didn't take long, given that he obviously had no intentions of eating the leftovers, and instead decided to pour himself something to drink. When he walked to the couch, Ed instinctively moved his feet so that Roy could sit.

"I'm tired of being inside," Ed said finally, then glanced over the top of the book when Roy made no reply. "I want to be able to go outside."

"You're the one who said you should stay out of public view," Roy returned softly, not looking at him but at the glass.

"Yes, but I thought I would be gone before this," Ed explained, closing the book and dropping it to the floor. He sat up, feeling uncomfortable with having such an important discussion while lounging. "My reasoning was that I would be too recognizable as Edward Elric, and I still feel that way." He waited to see if Roy would reply, but when he got none, Ed said, "I don't know if I'm stuck here forever or not, but I know I can't live like this any longer. I can't live my whole life shut up in a room."

Roy downed the liquid in one quick gulp, then looked up at Ed and said, "Alright, what do you suggest?"

Ed was silent for a moment, then reached over and plucked the empty glass from Roy, got up, and headed toward the kitchen. He filled it, drank the contents, filled it again, then returned to the couch and handed it to Roy.

"I'm going to change some of my looks..." Ed said as he sat back down. It was like admitting he was stuck here, and he didn't like that. "I'll dye my hair black, I've done it before, and... well..." He frowned, and continued more reluctantly, "I guess I'll cut it..." He didn't like that idea very much; he hadn't had short hair since his mother died. "We can say I'm a far removed cousin of yours. You did say you had family not here in Amestris, didn't you?"

"You hardly look like you're from Xing, and your accent isn't from that land either," Roy pointed out flatly.

"You can say I live beyond Xing in the far away country of Europe. Or you can say I'm from America," Ed added in a light, offhand manner. "I was accused of that a few times when I was younger because I was so brash and loudmouthed." Roy frowned slightly, giving him a blank look, and Ed waved a hand. "Never mind, it was a joke... The point is that I need to be able to move around, and that will give me the cover I need."

Roy was silent for a few moments, then he looked up at Ed and said, "I don't think it will work. Your eyes give you away... Eyes your color are very rare..."

Ed nodded. He'd thought of that too. Standing up, he moved to the desk, where he pulled open one of the drawers and took out a pair of sunglasses. Putting them on, Ed turned and said, "I'm your _blind_ cousin. It's why I'm here. I've recently lost my eyesight and you've graciously offered to let me live with you for a time while I cope with this new difficulty." It wasn't _that _far fetched, and he'd used sunglasses to cover his eyes the last time he'd changed his looks.

"Hmm... That might work..." Roy conceded after a moment of thought.

"It _will_ work," Ed said confidently. He took the glasses off, set them on the desk, then pulled a pair of scissors out of the drawer. "I think I should cut my hair first." He looked at Roy. "Or rather, _you_ should cut my hair. It will probably look better if someone else does it."

Roy stared silently at him for a moment, then drank the rest of the liquor and put the glass aside before getting up and walking over to Ed. He stared mutely at the scissors for almost a minute before slowly taking them.

"Pull the chair in the bathroom," Roy said somberly.

Ed grabbed the chair and moved toward the bathroom. _Is he upset about this?_ Ed wondered as he set the chair down into the small bathroom. It seemed like a stupid thing; after all, it was _his_ hair that was being cut, not Roy's.

"You might want to take off some of your clothes," Roy said as he stepped into the bathroom. "Unless you want hair stuck in them."

Ed opened his mouth to suggest draping a towel over his shoulders, then remembered that Roy only had two towels, and laundry day was still four days away. That simply wouldn't work unless he wanted to get hair on him each time he dried off from bathing.

"You're just trying to get me naked," Ed muttered as he began unbuttoning his vest.

Roy gave him a bland look, then said with a bit of exasperation, "Keep your clothes on; I don't care. _You're_ the one who would have to deal with the hair, not me."

He handed Roy the vest, then pulled his shirt out of his trousers and began to deftly unbutton the small buttons with his real hand. The buttons on the vest were large and much easier to handle with two hands, but the small buttons on the shirt were difficult to hold onto with his automail, so he'd become proficient at undoing them with one hand.

Handing the shirt to Roy, Ed paused for a moment as he tried to decide if he wanted to take his trousers off as well. He glanced at Roy, who was doing his best not to look at him, and was, instead, neatly folding the shirt. Muttering under his breath, Ed took off his trousers and quickly handed them to Roy before sitting on the chair—naked except for his boxers.

Roy took his time folding the trousers, then set them neatly aside before moving around behind him. Ed had his hair in a high ponytail today, and he felt Roy pull the small elastic band out of his hair before setting it aside and running his fingers through the hair.

"It's... such a shame to cut it..." he heard Roy murmur.

"I'm not thrilled about it either, but it's what has to be done," Ed said, wishing Roy would just get on with it. Instead, he could feel the small pulls on his skull as the man fondled and caressed his hair. Roy would bring his hands up under the hair and let his fingers thread through the strands until he was touching Ed's head, then he would pull his fingers through to the end.

Ed wondered if he should tell him to stop, but it felt sort of nice, and it would be the last time for a long while that anyone would do something like that. So he remained silent. The caresses moved to his shoulders as Roy ran his hands along his hair, then to his back.

His heart quickened at how good Roy's hands felt against his skin. The touches moved all over his back, then returned to his shoulders, then to his upper arms. And then there was the feel of hot breath against his neck as Roy nuzzled his face into his hair, almost touching his skin.

He leaned into the touch momentarily, then realized what he was doing and pulled away. He was enjoying the touches and caresses far too much for his own liking, and there was a part of him that desperately wanted them to continue. But then there was the part of him that harshly reminded himself _who_ was touching him, and he felt ashamed for wanting it.

"Please... just cut it..." Ed whispered; feeling sick to his stomach, confused, and needy.

Roy pulled away and Ed heard a small sigh before, "There any specific way you want it cut?"

"No. Just cut it," Ed returned quietly. "However you want." Nothing happened for a moment, then he felt Roy gather his hair into his fist before hacking through it a few times. Ed reached back and touched his head. "A little harsh, weren't you?"

"I'd like to keep this," Roy said, gently laying the hair down on the counter. "That is, if it's alright with you."

_Sentimental fool_, Ed thought, then said, "Sure, I don't care." The rest of the cut took a while as Roy worked to get everything even; and in the end, it only looked slightly bad, instead of horrible.

"I'm an alchemist, not a barber," Roy said as Ed critically examined his hair in the mirror. It looked somewhat close to how he'd worn his hair as a boy, only shaggier. With a little growing out, it probably would look decent.

"Thanks," Ed said, turning away from the mirror.

Roy studied him for a moment, then reached up and brushed at some of the pieces of hair on Ed's skin. When he was done, he rested his hand on Ed's shoulder, then slowly moved it up along his neck and gently ghosted his thumb over his jaw line. Ed took in a deep, shuttering breath, then reached up and grabbed Roy's hand.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest with nervous excitement, and his groin seemed to understand where this could lead, but mentally Ed wasn't ready for something like that. Holding, hugging, snuggling... those were okay. He'd done that before with Alfons and those were okay; seemed slightly normal. It was a thing that brothers or very close friends might do... maybe... But what Roy wanted...

"Don't..." he said, looking more at Roy's throat than at his face. "I told you before, I'm not—"

"I know," Roy said, cutting him off and pulling his hand away. "I... apologize." He turned and moved toward the door. "Do what you need to do. I'm going to go out and pick up some dinner."

Ed wanted to argue the point, tell him not to waste his money and eat the leftovers, but he couldn't seem to work up the energy for it. He watched Roy leave, then moved to shut the door behind him. Turning, Ed sat back down on the chair and rested his head in one of his hands. He felt torn and confused, and he didn't like it at all.

Why wasn't it all black and white? It should be, right? What Roy wanted from him... that was wrong. Everyone knew it was wrong, so why was he even considering it? Was it because he was lonely? And that would definitely be a valid reason because Ed certainly _was_ lonely. That much was evident from how willing he was to sleep so close with Roy; but, he'd done the same with Alfons too... It was normal to want physical contact, right?

Maybe it was that he hadn't had sex with someone for so long... Perhaps it was only lust that was driving him to accept Roy's view; yet the thought of being with a man in that way... Ed pressed his hands to his eyes as the image of Roy and him being sexually intimate came to his mind.

He could feel his hands shaking against his face... Maybe he was just afraid. After all, he'd dabbled with too many taboos in the past and none of them had ever brought pleasant consequences. But... if he did this... who would know?

"I would know..." Ed whispered and squeezed his eyes shut behind his palms as a feeling of shame washed over him. If he had sex with Roy, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to look the man in the eyes again...

Ed stood up and angrily pushed the chair to the side of the small bathroom, then began to prepare what he needed to change his hair color. This whole situation was embarrassing and frustrating—not just because of Roy, but because of himself. Because, if he was truly honest with himself, Ed would have to say that he was curious and that he wanted to give Roy a chance.

That wasn't something Ed could have said a month ago, but he'd done a lot of self searching recently, and while he couldn't say that he definitely agreed that it was right for two men to be together like that, he wasn't so sure anymore that he could honestly say he believed it was completely wrong either.

* * *


	6. Shards of a Broken Belief

—

**Mirrors of Yesterday**

**VI**

**Shards of a Broken Belief**

—  
Ed scratched idly at his face as he scribbled some notes in the margin of the text he was reading. Even though it had been almost six months since he'd started disguising himself, he still wasn't used to having facial hair. He'd always preferred to stay clean shaven, much to Alphonse's irritation. For some reason, his brother had trouble growing facial hair—though he had managed to keep a decent looking mustache—while Ed seemed to have gotten their father's ability to grow a forest on his face. He would have gladly traded, as he preferred the clean cut look to the more 'mature' one and would have liked to shave less often.

Yet, despite the fact that Ed disliked it, he'd decided to grow it anyway to help with his disguise. He kept the beard and mustache very short and neatly trimmed, and according to Roy it looked rather nice on him, but it was still a bother. Keeping the damn thing the right color was time consuming and it made his face itch.

A loud peal of thunder sounded and Ed looked up for a moment before sighing and shutting the book. It had been raining hard since yesterday, and this made him feel a little melancholy. It hadn't rained this bad since he'd first come here over seven months ago.

The sound of the door opening met his ears, and Ed turned to see Roy letting himself in. "Hungry?" Ed asked automatically, getting up and walking to the kitchen.

"No," Roy grunted as he hung his rain coat up, then slipped out of his military jacket and hung that up as well.

"No?" Ed asked, stopping in mid-stride and turning around. That was unusual. Roy wasn't always famished when he came home, but he was always hungry. Instead of answering, Roy flopped down on the couch and covered his eyes with his arm.

Ed tapped his fingers against his trousers for a moment, then moved to make some hot tea. It was a cold day outside, and that would probably be the best thing right now. After making the tea, Ed poured a cup for Roy and for himself, then moved to the couch.

"Here," Ed said, holding the cup down where Roy could reach it. Roy moved his arm away from his eyes and looked from the cup to Ed, then back to the cup in consideration before sitting up and taking it.

Roy took a sip, then said, not meeting Ed's eyes, "Fullmetal is up for his evaluation."

"Makes me glad I'm not in the military anymore," Ed commented in an offhand way, but apparently this wasn't quite what Roy wanted by the look on his face.

"He wants to duel with me," Roy grunted. He looked less than pleased.

Ed blinked, then laughed. "Oh yeah..." he said, then stopped himself from saying more.

"Oh yeah?" Roy repeated, sounding a little irritated. He glanced up at Ed with tired looking eyes.

"I'd just forgotten about it," Ed said in an offhand manner, then took a sip of his tea. After their battle assessment, he and the colonel had talked as they worked to repair the parade grounds. It had been one of the few times he'd gotten a glimpse at the 'real' Roy Mustang; though, at the time, Ed hadn't really realized what he was seeing.

"You'll be fine," Ed said, then tried to change the subject, "I made an Italian recipe for dinner tonight. I had to change a few of the ingredients because they're just not available here, but—"

"I don't want to fight him," Roy broke in, and Ed frowned. This was obviously an issue for him. Ed remembered the colonel saying something about having seen some terrible things in Ishbal, but he'd never actually said why he hesitated...

"Why?" Ed asked, wondering if he'd get answers tonight.

Roy glanced away and sipped at the tea quietly for several minutes, then asked in a heavy tone, "How much do you know about me?"

Ed blinked. It wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. He thought on it for a moment, then asked cautiously, "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He stopped, then started again. "Before I met you at the bookstore and you began living here, how much did you know about me... personally..."

"Not much. I knew you'd fought in Ishbal, but everyone knows that. I knew you were at the top of your class in the military academy and that you were the youngest person to become a State Alchemist before me; but, again, everyone knows that." He paused, contemplating whether or not his next words would be alright to say, then said, "You once told me you'd seen some... unpleasant... things in Ishbal, but you didn't say more than that."

It was close enough to when Roy would tell him that Ed felt okay about saying so, but he kept the conversation he'd had with the colonel in the car to himself, as well as the knowledge about him killing Winry's parents.

There was silence except for the rain outside, then suddenly, Roy got up and walked to the kitchen where he discarded the tea and got himself something a little stronger to drink. He stood at the counter with his back to Ed for a moment before saying, "I killed people in Ishbal."

It was almost too faint for Ed to hear, but he did, and when Roy didn't say anything else, Ed set the tea cup down on the floor, then moved over to him and said quietly, "You were just doing as you'd been commanded to do..."

"Exactly..." Roy said angrily, then took a deep drink, emptying the glass. "I did as I was told. It wasn't a war, it was an extermination. Men, women, children... it didn't matter. We were to kill them all, and we did... Oh yes... at first we went in there and did the dirty work up close. I watched as people fled in terror before me, but it didn't do them any good..."

Roy stopped talking, then poured himself another glass. "Then there came a time..." A pause and a drink. "We... _I... _did a lot of damage... dammit..." Ed could hear regret in Roy's voice at the last word and watched as he quickly drank the liquor in the glass. "I didn't want to kill them..." Roy whispered heavily, then reached out for the bottle again.

At that, Ed stepped forward and put his hand on Roy's. "Don't..." Ed murmured, and wondered if he should interfere with this. Had Roy drank himself silly the night before their fight? Would stopping him from doing so change things? Ed didn't know, but before he could dwell on this further, Roy had turned and now had a hold on Ed's hand. He stepped forward and pulled Ed close to him.

"You don't understand..." Roy said harshly. There was a hint of desperation in his tone, and a note of sick fear and remorse as well. "I can't fight Fullmetal... he's just a kid!"

"Roy..." Ed began, but stopped when Roy pulled back, grabbed his shoulders, and began to shake him.

"Why?" he shouted in a distressed voice. "Why did you make such a stupid request?!" Ed, not pleased with being manhandled, kicked Roy in the shin—hard enough to make him let go, but soft enough as to not cause him any real damage.

"I may be older, but I can still kick your ass," Ed said irritably, then shrugged his shoulders to release some tension and said, "Don't do that again."

"I'm sorry..." Roy murmured regretfully, not meeting his eyes, then made to reach for the bottle again, but Ed stepped forward and caught his arm. He could feel Roy shaking beneath his hold and felt a stab of pity for the man. It was obvious that this was causing Roy a lot of pain, yet he was trying so hard to keep it locked inside. All those years ago, he hadn't known that it bothered Roy this much to do the battle assessment... He almost felt a bit guilty for having insisted on it...

"Let's talk about this on the couch; without the alcohol. Alright?" Ed suggested kindly.

Roy moved his gaze and stared at him for a time, then closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Alright..." Ed nodded and guided Roy out of the kitchen. "Why did you ask for this battle assessment, Ed?" Roy asked dully. Ed took a seat, but instead of sitting by him, Roy sat at his desk.

"Because, I thought you were an asshole and I wanted to put you in your place," Ed said simply. There was no point in trying to make himself look better.

Roy made a sound of irritation, then said, "You were a little shit, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know," Ed said, picking the tea cup up and taking a sip. He wondered if his teenage self would have felt guilty had he known how much this was bothering his commanding officer. He contemplated it for a moment before coming to the conclusion that he probably would have felt a twinge of guilt but would have gone through with it anyway. How strange it was that time and age could change a person so much...

Roy turned in his chair and stared down at the book Ed had been studying before he'd come home. "Well... you're still alive, so it must not have turned out that bad..." Roy reasoned aloud, then set the book aside and started flipping through a folder.

Ed watched in disappointment as Roy began to lose himself in his work. He'd been hoping that he'd learn more about what happened in Ishbal—not that he _hadn't _learned more, but... well... _I'm turning into a nosy old woman_, Ed thought derisively as he finished his tea. _If Roy doesn't want to tell me, then that's his business, not mine._

He sat there for several minutes, hoping Roy would come back to the subject, but when he didn't, Ed stood up and headed toward the kitchen to dish some dinner up for both himself and Roy.

His eyes fixed on the bottle of liquor and he glanced quickly back at Roy before taking a drink directly out of the bottle. It wasn't exactly the most refined thing to do, and he'd listened to Roy bitch about him drinking directly from containers before, but he simply didn't see the need to dirty a glass just because he wanted one swig.

Putting the bottle away, Ed thought about what Roy had said. Tomorrow was the battle assessment... That meant that the younger him was here in East City to report about Lior, and if he'd already been to Lior, that meant that Scar was on the loose, and that the homunculi were hunting him and Al...

He pulled two plates from the cupboard and began dishing out the food. From here, things escalated so quickly... There would be the Laboratory-5 incident, and then he and Al would end up going to Dublith. Somewhere in that time, Maes Hughes would be killed and Roy—along with a few subordinates—would be transferred back to Central, and then...

Ed set a fork on each of the plates and stared down at the food. And then there would be chaos. The homunculi, his father, the Stone, Lior, Dante, the hidden city... It would all happen so fast... He turned and glanced back at Roy, who was sitting blissfully unaware of what the future held, and suddenly he was afraid.

He had about a year before his younger self faced Dante in the hidden city—a year before he left this world behind... After that Ed was clueless as to what would happen here. Not completely clueless, Al had told him a few things after they'd been reunited, but his brother hadn't paid a lot of attention to the world around him. He'd been so concentrated on finding Ed that anything which didn't directly pertain to his goal was all but ignored.

But it wasn't only the unknown which made Ed fear, it was what he knew would happen in this next year. There would come a time when Roy would have to leave him to fend for himself as he became more entangled and involved in the upheaval caused by the homunculi.

Ed frowned. He'd thought of finding a way to somehow help the people who had suffered, people like Hughes... He could find a way to prevent him from dying! But... Ed knew that he shouldn't, knew that the unforeseen consequences could be disastrous... Those thoughts had tormented him for several months until he found an uneasy compromise within himself that he could be putting others at risk by trying to save those who were destined to die... And still, it took all his inner self-control to not meddle...

So, his life had become a simple one—research and take care of Roy. What would he do with himself when Roy was gone? He'd be alone again... Grabbing Roy's plate, Ed tried to force all the unpleasant thoughts out of his mind and walked to the desk. He stopped and stood there looking down at Roy—who was engrossed in whatever he was currently reading.

Ed studied the man's fine, black hair; studied the skin of Roy's neck and where it disappeared when it met the white shirt he was wearing. He studied Roy as a whole; the way he sat, slightly hunched over the desk while delicately holding the paper; how his eyeglasses would move slightly when his brow crinkled in thought...

One day Roy wouldn't be able to wear those glasses anymore. One of his eyes would be covered by an eye patch from an incident Ed had no knowledge of. Alphonse hadn't known, and Ed hadn't had the time to ask, since there were more pressing matters to attend to the one brief time he'd come back to this world.

"You'd better not be thinking of skipping dinner," Ed said finally and set the plate down on the paper-strewn desk. He didn't want to worry about these things, and he tried to concentrate on simply taking care of Roy now.

"Too late," Roy muttered, moving the plate aside. "I've already thought about it."

Ed frowned in displeasure before reaching over and moving the food back in front of Roy. "I don't like throwing away food."

"I won't throw it away," Roy insisted, again moving the dish aside.

Frustration welled up with in him, and Ed growled, "How are you supposed to keep up your strength tomorrow if you don't eat properly!"

Roy set the paper down on the desk, turned in his chair, gave Ed an angry stare, and said sternly, "Stop it."

Ed blinked in surprise. "Stop what?"

"I'm not your little brother; stop treating me like I am."

"I'm not—" Ed began, but Roy cut him off.

"I've seen how you—your younger self—treats Alphonse. I've watched them whenever they've been around, and _yes_, you _do_ treat me like I'm your younger brother. I want you to stop it. I'm a grown man and I was living fine on my own before you got here."

Ed opened his mouth and shut it again. He knew that Roy was simply in a bad mood and that he'd been drinking, which only escalated his foul temper, but he couldn't help but feel hurt at these words.

"I... I'm sorry..." he said softly. "I... simply care about your well being..." He didn't know what else to say.

Roy turned and looked down at his desk. "Why?" he asked quietly. "Why do you care? What am I to you anyway?"

Ed swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "You're my friend..." he choked out. They'd become _very_ good friends, but Ed knew there was more to it for both of them. Roy cared for him and wanted him; he'd said it straight out. And Ed... he felt _something..._

He missed Roy terribly when he was at work and looked forward to bedtime because he was able to find comfort in Roy's arms. In the darkness they would hold each other, and sometimes he would think about how Roy felt about him and wonder if he could ever return those feelings. Could he kiss Roy without feeling hesitant? Could he let Roy touch him and explore his body? Could he do that in return? Ed already felt as if he had a strong bond with Roy, but could he take what they had to the level Roy wanted?

A sort, derisive laugh sounded from Roy before he said, "Friend, huh?"

"Roy..." Ed murmured, feeling extremely uncomfortable. This line of discussion was always a touchy subject. "Let's not talk about this right now." He felt nervous, as if he was being backed into a corner and forced to take a deeper look at himself than he really wanted.

Glancing up from the desk to look at Ed, Roy ignored Ed's request and asked, "Do you treat all your friends like you treat me?"

Ed was silent for a moment, then murmured, "No..." He turned to start back toward the kitchen, to get away from Roy's piercing gaze and pointed questions, but stopped when he felt his wrist being grabbed.

"Please..." Roy whispered, and Ed turned to see the man standing up and looking at him with a somber and desperate expression. "Don't you feel _anything_ else for me? Anything at all?"

Blood pounded loud in Ed's ears and he wondered if his heart would explode from the pressure. He wanted to say 'no', wanted to maintain the fact that there was no way he could ever feel anything _passionate_ for another male. He could never have those types of feelings. They were wrong—unnatural. Close friendship was okay, he'd had that with Alfons... But was it really natural to be so emotionally close to another male? Wasn't that almost just as intimate as touching, kissing, and... sex?

He'd thought a lot about it in the past couple of months and the more he thought about the men he knew in his life, the more he became convinced that it _wasn't_ a normal thing for most of them. As far as he knew, they weren't close to other males in the way he'd been with Alfons and the way he was with Roy, but it felt natural to Ed...

When he'd come to such conclusions, he'd tried to rationalize it by arguing that he'd never learned such social barriers in friendship because Alphonse had been his closest friend and they had possessed such a close physical bond. And with Alfons? Well, they'd been young, still children, really... It hadn't been like that...

But it didn't work, and Ed knew he was simply trying to deceive himself.

Alphonse was his brother. They were family. It wasn't the same as getting hugs from other men who _weren't _family... And Alfons... Yes, they had been young, but at the time, he hadn't felt like a child. It was only in the perception of looking back that he felt that way. The relationship that he and Alfons had possessed... They'd been so very close; and now, Ed realized that if Alfons would have had his way, they would have been closer... would have had what Roy wanted... They could have been so much more, and Ed just might have been okay with it...

Slowly, Ed let his eyes meet Roy's and felt fear and nervousness course through his body as he opened his mouth and whispered, "Yes..." Roy blinked in surprise. Ed had rejected him so many times that he seemed unable to grasp the idea that his affections might actually be wanted.

"You..." Roy breathed in disbelief, but trailed off as if he couldn't find the words to continue.

Ed turned away as blood rushed to his face. He couldn't stand to have Roy see his discomfort. "I _do_ feel something for you..." he managed, then paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "But, I'm really confused, okay?" he finally said, uncomfortable with saying such private thoughts. "I don't... I don't want to be pushed into something I'm not ready for..."

When there was no reply, Ed turned around. Roy was staring at him with an almost dazed expression, then he seemed to get a hold on himself. Swallowing, Roy said cautiously, "And... what are you ready for right now?"

Ed thought about it for a moment, then stepped forward so that his body was almost touching Roy's. His eyes searched Roy's face in nervous anticipation. He thought about all the time he'd spent with Roy and how well they'd gotten along; thought about all the nights they'd lain in each other's arms...

A small shake began to develop in his body as he thought of Alfons. Was it possible that his friend had actually felt this deeply for him, but had hidden it under a blanket of denial to appease a society who hated him for being different?

Years worth of fears and learned prejudices assaulted him from all sides, and he nearly lost his nerve, then his eyes locked on Roy's obsidian ones and for once, his mind was quiet. He took a deep breath, slid his hand behind Roy's head, and pulled it down slightly toward him and whispered, "This..." before pressing his lips gently against Roy's.

His hand slid up through Roy's hair, creating a pleasant sensation against his palm. It was so _real._ The fine hairs, Roy's skull beneath them, the feel of Roy's lips on his, the warm breath that escaped Roy's nose and tickled his face as he breathed out... everything... It was all so real... and it all felt so good...

They stayed that way for a moment before Ed hesitantly broke the kiss and said, "Nothing more. Not right now. I..." He swallowed. His heart was racing and he worked to deal with all the new feelings cropping up inside of him. "I feel... things... for you, but... _this_..." He lightly brushed his thumb across Roy's lips. "This will take some getting used to..."

Ed looked away, not able to say anything else. He felt emotionally naked; stripped of all the objections and barriers he'd put between Roy and himself. He still felt ashamed—as if he was giving into something base and undesirable—but he felt an immense amount of relief as well. He'd made a decision to pursue a relationship with Roy, and it felt... right.

Ed wrapped his arms around Roy's body, and rested his forehead on his chest. A moment later he felt himself being held as well. Despite how many other times they had been this close, this time felt different. Ed wasn't just considering Roy as a platonic friend, he was seeing him as a potential lover—and that made all the difference in the world.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry it took me so long to get this out to you. I'd really wanted to get it up last weekend...

Also, please note the rating on this story. It won't be changing, which means there won't be any sex scenes in the story. This was something I debated on for quite some time, but really, that isn't something that I want to put in the story. It's very possible that I might write a oneshot shoot off from this story with that content.

With that said, this story only has one more chapter. I'll try to get it up by next weekend.

Thanks for reading.


	7. Transparency through Time

—

**Mirrors of Yesterday**

**VII**

**Transparency through Time**

—  
The wind howled and the snow danced around him in a furious gale, but still Roy stood his ground. The heavy clothing provided by the military was enough to keep him warm, but this far north, near the border of Drachma, the weather was bitterly cold and it seeped through the thick wool like water and chilled him to the bone.

He tried to ignore it though, and normally his thoughts kept him too busy to notice the frigid temperatures, but it had been almost six hours since he'd eaten last, and his stomach, along with the setting sun, reminded him that it was almost time for dinner.

Yet the hunger in and of itself was another reminder of how horribly he had failed in protecting those around him. His best friend, Maes Hughes; the fuhrer's son, if it was really appropriate to call the boy such, given that the fuhrer had not really been his father; and Fullmetal...

The world believed Fullmetal was dead; after all, it had been two years since his disappearance, but Roy knew it wasn't so. The boy's brother—Alphonse—searched for him even now, and Roy desperately wanted to give him the information that he knew, but he'd been forbidden to do so. Time must run its course, he'd been told, and so he'd done nothing.

After his confrontation with the fuhrer—the homunculus Pride—and being gunned down by Frank Archer, Roy had been nursed back to health by Lieutenant Hawkeye. He'd insisted there was no need to keep him at the hospital, that his cousin lived with him and that he'd be well taken care of, but the doctors had mandated he would stay there, and Hawkeye had taken it upon herself to care for him.

'Men don't know how to take proper care of those who are sick,' she had said, and Roy might have been inclined to agree had it been any other male than... But she had decided she would care for him, and it had been agreed upon without his permission by the powers that be.

And Hawkeye had taken very good care of him... Even to this day, he felt almost guilty for accepting her kindness when he knew she had feelings for him. He'd wondered, during that time, if he would have ever been able to fall in love with her. She was a beautiful woman; strong and caring, someone he could see himself with if he _had_ to be with a woman. He might even have settled for her—resigned himself to the fact that she was the best he would ever find if he didn't want to be alone—if he hadn't already found someone...

He heard the door to the small, military building open behind him before a hand rested on his shoulder. "Dinner is ready," a voice said. Roy nodded wearily, and he heard footsteps go back into the building. He took one last look around, though now that it was dark he couldn't see much, and turned to go inside.

The heat hit him immediately when he walked through the door, and Roy quickly shrugged out of the heavy winter coat and his civil officer's jacket. He stared down at it solemnly and quietly fingered the single star on the shoulder.

He wasn't fit to be in command of anyone... It was because of _his_ mistakes that so many people had died. He should have made Maes tell him what was happening, should have been able to save that boy, should have been able to keep Fullmetal from being so reckless... He should have protected them all, but he hadn't. So he'd given up his command. He'd finally reached the rank of general, but he'd given it up. What good was it to have power if you couldn't save anyone?

A hand covered his, breaking Roy out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw golden eyes looking at him in concern. Roy cleared his throat and quickly hung up the jacket. "Smells good in here." The smile he got in response to the compliment was enough to lift his spirits a little.

He made his way over to the table. Fullmetal was alive. He knew it because of the boy's older double who had been living with him for almost three years. If the boy was dead, such an arrangement would have been impossible. Yet, despite all of Roy's pleadings and demands, Ed had refused to say where Fullmetal had gone. He claimed that it would be interfering with the past, and he couldn't be held accountable for such a disruption. There had been many angry words exchanged over that subject, but Ed was always unrelenting.

A bowl of some sort of thick soup was placed before him and a loaf of bread was set on the table before Ed set a bowl down for himself as well. Roy eyed Ed easily. They'd been living at this outpost for almost a year now, and within that time, Ed had decided to shave off the facial hair, change his hair back to its natural color, and let it grow out again. It felt good to see Ed not needing to hide—visitors to this outpost were few and far between, and when they did get visitors, Ed simply stayed out of sight—but it also hurt in a way to see Ed looking so much like his younger self. It was a constant reminder to Roy that Fullmetal was out there somewhere and he could do nothing to help.

Ed took a bite of his soup, then said, obviously trying to make conversation, "Wasn't it nice to see Lieutenants Havoc and Breda the other day?" His voice had lost the strong unknown accent, but a little still remained, and Roy never tired of listening to it.

"No..." Roy said to the question while cutting a slice of bread and slathering it with butter. He hadn't wanted to see them, and hadn't wanted them to see him... It wasn't hard to see the pity in their eyes, and he hated it. He didn't need sympathy and he didn't want people trying to make him go back to how things used to be. Even if he went back to Central and was restored to his previous rank, things would never be the same.

Ed stared at him with a frown and Roy knew that if it had been him, Ed would have loved for someone to come visit. As it was, Ed had gone into the other room as soon as he'd known they were there. There would be too much explaining to do if they saw him.

"It's not good for you to be shut up here, away from social interact—"

"I have you. I don't need anyone else," Roy interrupted. They'd had this discussion several times before. Why couldn't Ed understand that he _wanted_ to be left alone? Was it so hard to believe that he was just fine being a border officer? Here he didn't have to worry about his relationship with Ed being found out. No one had to die; no one had to get hurt... He couldn't hurt anyone like in Ishbal, and he couldn't fail anyone either...

* * *

"Stubborn," Ed grumbled, gulping down another spoonful of his soup.

Roy grunted but said nothing else and focused on his meal, so Ed did the same. It was no use talking to Roy while he was like this—which happened to be eighty percent of the time nowadays—because he seemed too content to hide in the little hole he'd created for himself. Just hide away from the world and mourn about things he couldn't change. Hell, the man wouldn't even use alchemy anymore!

Ed almost wanted to try slapping some sense into him. It was so frustrating to see him so depressed and down. This weather did nothing for a person's spirits either. It was almost never sunny; and, when it was, the temperature was even _colder_ than when it was snowing. They'd both become a little pale with the lack of direct sunlight as well.

With a discouraged sigh, Ed thought about what day it was. Alphonse had once told him the exact date they'd met up in Amestris, and right now time was speeding toward that day with a fury. Ed had assumed that when Havoc and Breda showed up, they would take Roy with them, and that was why he'd been in Central when his eighteen-year-old self had shown up.

But Roy hadn't gone with them, and Ed wondered if he'd stayed because of him. Was _he_ holding Roy back? Should Roy have gone to Central with Havoc and Breda? Would he even be stationed at this outpost if they'd never met? Maybe Roy would have decided that staying with Hawkeye was the best choice and that's why he'd be in Central at that time... But it was all a guessing game because he'd never know. However, what he _did_ know was that Roy _had_ to be in Central on that day. They needed him... He and Al needed him...

"Roy..." Ed said, clearing his throat. Roy said nothing, simply looked at him. Ed hesitated. Should he say it? What if something else happened that he didn't know of that made Roy go to Central? But if that were so, it would have to happen soon because it took at least a few days to get to Central from here...

"What?" Roy asked when Ed had been silent too long.

Taking a deep breath, Ed said, "I think you should go to Central."

"I told you—" Roy began, but Ed cut him off.

"No, I mean, it's not like that. You can come back, but..." Ed hesitated. How much should he say? Where was the line between not enough information and too much? "You have to be in Central..." he finally said quietly. "Please go. Something is going to happen and... you need to be there..."

Roy pointed his spoon at Ed and said in an accusing tone, "What about changing history?"

"Dammit, Roy!" Ed exclaimed in frustration. "You're _supposed_ to be in Central in a few days. You _were_ there! If anything, my being here has made it so that you aren't in Central!"

What would happen if Roy wasn't there? No one would have helped them when they were being attacked, and even if they would have gotten to the ship, Alphonse would have needed to stay behind to close the gate on this side. He never would have been able to go to the other world because it was Roy who closed the gate on this side...

"_Please_," Ed begged desperately. "Please go... For me... please..."

Roy looked down at his soup for a moment before saying quietly, "That's unfair..."

"Have I every asked you for anything before?" Ed asked urgently.

"Lots of times," Roy said, glancing up at him with a small smirk.

Ed glared. "I mean of this magnitude. I'll do anything. Just... please go."

Roy raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking a little more interested. "Anything?"

Ed gave Roy a flat look, then said in a slow and bland tone, "You are a pervert. You know that, right?"

It had been a little over a year after he'd come back to this world that he and Roy first had sex. It had been an educational and almost nerve-racking experience for them both. Roy hadn't been with very many people, so he was relatively new with this level of intimacy; and though Ed had plenty of experience, he'd never been with anyone of his own gender.

But over the last two years, they'd gotten it down well enough, and Ed had been surprised to see how solid and complete their relationship had become over time. He had something with Roy that he'd never had with his wife, and while Ed still insisted he _had_ loved her, he now knew he'd never been _in love_ with her.

Somehow it had happened with Roy. Ed couldn't say at what point it had happened, because it had been such a gradual thing, but what they had now was good; no, it was amazing. Their relationship was fulfilling in so many ways—physically, emotionally, intellectually... His only regret was a nagging at the back of his mind that constantly wondered if he could have ever had something this good with Alfons...

"Funny you should say that after what you did last nig—" Roy began, but Ed cut him off before he could finish that thought. Roy was sidetracking this conversation and it was far too important for that.

"Will you go?" he asked solemnly.

A sigh, then, "Alright. For you, I'll go." Roy paused and looked at Ed with a pointed gaze before saying, "From what you said, I assume I'll be seeing Fullmetal there." Ed didn't answer. Roy would find out soon enough. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," Roy said when he didn't say anything. Looking down, he said quietly, "You're not going to come with me... are you..."

Ed swallowed hard. He didn't want to be separated, but it would probably be best if he didn't go. He'd be too tempted to involve himself when he shouldn't.

"No..." he whispered.

Roy nodded, and by the look on his face, he'd expected that answer. "When should I leave?" The question sounded hollow and empty, but determined at the same time.

"Tomorrow, I guess..." Ed said, stirring his soup absentmindedly. "I'll keep watch for you here until you return."

* * *

Ed shivered at the sudden cold as the two of them stepped outside. The weather in the mornings was never pleasant in this area and the wind was usually wilder than at any other time of the day.

"I won't be gone longer than two weeks at the most," Roy shouted over the wind.

Ed swallowed hard and nodded without a word. He hadn't slept well that night, knowing Roy was leaving. He'd been tired enough to sleep, their lovemaking had assured that, but his mind had been too full of thoughts and worries to allow him any rest. And then there had been what Roy had said over breakfast...

'_I had a thought, but you'll probably think I'm crazy,' _Roy had said.

'_I already think you're crazy,'_ he'd replied.

'_What if you aren't changing history? What if I was there in Central in your past because you were here and you made me go?'_

'_Some sort of paradox?'_ Ed had asked skeptically.

'_See, I told you that you'd think I was crazy.'_

They hadn't talked any more about it, but the thought had stuck with Ed. What if it were true? What if he had _already_ messed with time by sending Roy to Central and that was why he'd been there when he was younger... Was this his purpose? The reason he was here in this world and time? And if that was so, what would happen to him now? Did he no longer have a place in this world?

Roy stepped close, wrapped his arms around Ed, and asked in his ear, "What's wrong?"

Ed shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He knew his worries were unfounded and silly, and he didn't want to burden Roy with his gloomy thoughts. He didn't want Roy to leave, but he knew that he couldn't make him stay either.

"Take care," Ed finally said in Roy's ear, then reluctantly let go and stepped back.

Roy nodded, but instead of turning immediately, he let his eyes rest on Ed for a moment, his gaze filled with an emotion that still mystified Ed that someone—anyone—could possibly feel such a strong thing for him.

After the lingering look, Roy stepped forward and leaned down to press his lips against Ed's. The kiss was almost chaste in its sweetness. Roy was about to step back when Ed grabbed a hold of him and pressed his lips harder against Roy's, then opened his mouth slightly and pushed his tongue against Roy's lips, seeking entrance. It didn't take much persuasion on Ed's part and for another long moment, the two of them warmed each other with their breath; taking each other in, and giving each other strength.

"Ed..." Roy whispered, finally pulling away and pawing lightly at Ed's cheek with his thick glove. Their eyes met and Ed almost said that he was coming to Central too. Forget guarding the outpost for a couple of weeks; nothing ever happened in this area anyway. He didn't want to be without Roy, didn't want to be alone; yet, inside, he could feel it so strongly that it was if fate itself was holding him back. He wasn't meant to be in Central. Only Roy was to go.

Leaning into the soft caress, Ed murmured, "I can't... I can't go... I want to... but..."

"I know..." Roy murmured. The wind didn't hide his disappointment, but instead seemed to amplify it and carry it on the frigid air currents. There was a pause, then a reluctant, "I should go..."

Ed swallowed a lump in his throat, and nodded. He snatched one last kiss, uncharacteristically grateful for the empty landscape so that he didn't have to hide his affection, then stepped back.

With a small smile, Roy rested his hand over his heart, and gave Ed a meaningful look. "In two weeks, sooner if I can," he said, then turned and started away.

Ed felt his eyes sting and he blinked angrily. Roy would be back in two weeks. There was no reason to feel so depressed. Yet, he couldn't help it. He'd been alone during the hellish period of time when his younger self had been running away from the military and Roy had been chasing him as well as following military orders. Then there had been when Roy had been injured...

His eyes focused on Roy's form—growing ever distant in the snow strewn landscape. But except for that period, they'd been together since he'd come back to this world, and even though he'd been lonely, he'd always known Roy would come back alive because he'd been there in Central that day... But now, Ed didn't know what would happen, and the fear of returning to the loneliness he'd lived with before being with Roy was almost staggering.

_Roy will be fine,_ he thought, trying to convince himself. When he could no longer see him, Ed turned and headed back to the outpost building. It would be a long two weeks, but when it was over, he was sure he'd feel stupid for having such worrisome thoughts.

* * *

Roy sat on a ruined step and surveyed the damaged city around him. It was hard to comprehend that only yesterday the city had been pristine and whole. It reminded him of how Ishbal looked during the war. Not after—no, after the war the countryside had been in a much worse state than this. They had obliterated any sign that a civilization had once occupied those lands. They had eradicated the Ishballans, and for what?

"General..."

"Not a general anymore, Lieutenant Hawkeye..." he murmured, then glanced over to where she was making her way through the rubble.

She stopped and gazed at him sadly. "You'll always be 'General Mustang' to me..." He gave her a weary smile as she sat down next to him. Hawkeye studied him, then asked, "What happened?"

His smile slipped and he looked away from her. "It was Fullmetal," he said softly. "I imagine he wanted to cause one last bit of trouble for me before he left..."

"Edward?" she asked in wonder. "You saw him?"

He was quiet for a moment, then said, "Yeah... I did. But he's gone now; he and Alphonse both." It had been such a wonderful thing to see the Elric brothers working together again; how he'd missed that... He could see Fullmetal's face in his mind, older than he'd remembered, but so much younger than Ed's. The foreign clothing had reminded him of the first time he'd met Ed by the bookstore, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to leave Central and be back with the one he loved.

"Where did they go?" Hawkeye asked.

Roy shook his head. "I don't know..." But he'd find out. When he went back north, he would find out. He'd _make_ Ed tell him somehow; after all, what did it matter if he knew now that Fullmetal and Alphonse were gone?

Alphonse...

His heart had gone out to the boy as he'd cried for his brother. He could understand Alphonse so well at that moment. The thought of having to say goodbye to Ed—_his_ Ed—forever, made his heart ache fiercely. He'd told the boy that he would close the gate on their side and had assisted him to the aircraft. So he had closed the gate, and now here he sat, pondering all that had happened.

When he'd seen what kind of peril the city was in, he hadn't been able to hold back his assistance. It was the first time he'd used alchemy since his fight with the homunculus Pride and it was also the first time he'd taken command since then as well. It hadn't been his right, as he'd given up his rank, but his former subordinates hadn't demoted him in their minds and they'd followed him eagerly.

"Sir..." Hawkeye said, breaking into his thoughts. "Won't you come back? Won't you allow yourself to take on the rank you truly are? We need you." She paused, then said quietly, "_I_ need you..."

Roy let his gaze settle on her before sighing and shaking his head. "Lieutenant... I..." He took in a deep breath. What could he say to that? How could he tell her that they weren't meant to be? "I'll think about coming back to Central, but..." He paused, then said sympathetically, "I can't ever be what you want me to be. I can never give you what you need." He swallowed, trying to get more moisture in his throat. "Please understand..."

Hurt flashed across her features before she looked down at her hands. "I see..." she whispered.

_Do you?_ he wondered silently. He didn't think she did, but that was okay with him. He wasn't sure that he wanted her to understand completely, and he had a feeling she really didn't want to know. People were like that. They'd rather not know some things. They'd rather just pretend that some things didn't exist—that some _people_ didn't exist.

"As a friend, then," she finally said. "I hope you'll come back." Hawkeye slowly turned her head and gave him a small smile.

Roy stood and extended his hand to help her up. He should report back to headquarters, then he wanted to be on his way back north to see Ed. He didn't want to delay; and, if he was lucky, he'd be back sooner than the two weeks he'd planned for.

After he helped her up, he tightened his grip on her hand and murmured, "I need good friends like you. Thank you..." _Thank you for understanding... _he thought gratefully as they started making their way through the rubble.

* * *

Ed shivered and stamped his feet. He was too old to be doing things like standing out in the snow all day. In two years he'd be forty; not exactly _old_ here in Amestris, but the other world had a much shorter life expectancy and he still hadn't been able to switch his mindset over. People on the other side of the gate began dying in their fifties—that was considered old, the end of your life. Here in Amestris, Ed figured he might have another thirty or forty years left, instead of ten to fifteen. The thought was only marginally comforting as he stood there scanning the landscape that marked the boarder between Amestris and Drachma.

A noise somewhere to his right caught his attention and he stepped away from the shelter of the building to get a better look, but saw nothing. He shook his head and returned to the lee of the building.

It had been a week and a half since Roy had gone, and Ed longed to hear his voice, to touch him, to be with him... He was tired of being alone. Sleep was hard to come by. It would take him forever to fall asleep, and then he would awake after only a few hours. He would grope the bed around him, desperate for human contact, only to realize he was alone.

He needed sleep, but his dreams were filled with his fears. Dreams of Roy never returning haunted him into his waking hours; and sometimes he had dreams of Alphonse calling to him—desperate for Ed not to leave him.

Ed sighed and watched the misty puff of his breath dissipate into the cold. He felt so _guilty_ for never finding a way to return to his brother, but how could he possibly find a way back if he didn't know how he'd come to be here in the first place? Besides, Alphonse had a wife and children, and while Al would miss him, Ed knew his brother was alright without him.

Another sound caught his attention, this time to his left and as he turned to see what it could be, gunshots sounded and bullets ricocheted off the stone building. Ed ducked, but not in time, and felt a bullet rip through his left shoulder. He cried out and instinctively grabbed at the wound with his right hand as he ran to the door and flung it open.

The need to get to the radio and warn the other outposts coursed strongly through him, but he didn't get any farther than the first step inside when he saw the house was already occupied by Drachma soldiers. In the course of a second, his eyes widened and the man closest to him lifted a gun.

In his younger years, Ed might have quickly dropped to the floor and performed alchemy to save himself, or even rushed forward to attack the man head on. But he was older and slower now, and the instinct to use alchemy had been tapped from him in his long years on the other side of the gate. There had also been little use for his fighting skills in the last twenty or so years, so it took him a moment to realize exactly what was happening and what to do.

He took a step backward, intending to leave the building and take his chances among the trees—after all, if he couldn't use the radio to warn others, then he'd have to do it on foot—but at that moment, the soldier pulled the trigger and he felt pain flare hot in his side. Ed cried out and clutched at his wound with both hands while falling to his knees.

The laughter of the soldiers echoed in his ears and he could hear the sound of more soldiers outside. Would he die here? Was his time in this world complete? He didn't want to think so, but...

Orders were being shouted—plans to take over the small outpost and to attack the other ones in the area. They were ignoring him, probably on the pretense that he wasn't a threat and that he would be dead soon. Maybe they were right, maybe he would be dead soon; but Roy would be coming back this way, and Ed wouldn't allow him to meet the same fate.

Pulling his hands away from his side, Ed clapped them together—splattering a little blood from his palms onto his face and onto the floor—then pressed them against the ground. Power surged through him with a strength born of his need to protect the one he loved. The earth shook and he heard screams around him, but he was unyielding. Bits of stone and sand fell from the walls and roof as the building tried to withstand the force of his power. And Ed had no doubt that it would stand when this was all over, but he knew for certain that these men wouldn't.

* * *

The ground trembled slightly, and Roy stopped his forward trudge through the snow. He lifted his head and looked in the direction he was going, noticing a flock of birds in the far distance taking off.

An earthquake?

He didn't think so. This area wasn't prone to them, but... What then? He trudged a few more steps through the snow, then stopped again when he felt more trembling and heard the faint sound of... what? Shouting? Screaming? He wanted to dismiss that thought. After all, this outpost never saw any action. It was too far out of the way...

Of course, if he were a tactician—and he was—where would he strike? The blood drained from his face as he realized that he would pick a spot where the enemy wouldn't suspect. Roy pulled off his heavy winter gloves, took his ignition gloves from his pocket, and put them on. The ground trembled again as he started forward. If there was trouble, he only hoped that Ed would be able to hold his own until he arrived.

* * *

Ed cried out in pain as he felt himself being scooped into someone's arms. His body ached and he felt a chill settling upon him. There were shouts, but Ed was too focused on the pain to really make them out. Whoever was holding him shifted and Ed's eyes involuntarily opened and he gasped.

A face was close to his and it took him a moment to make it out. Finally, he whispered, "Alphonse...?"

"I'm here, brother," Al said, his voice quivering. "Just hold on. Help is on the way."

Ed blinked and moved his gaze away from his brother's face. He could see that he was lying next to a car, and that there were people around, but that was about it. He wouldn't be able to see more unless he moved his head, which he didn't feel inclined to do.

Looking back at Al, Ed swallowed. He could taste blood, but wasn't quite sure where it was coming from. "Al..."

"Don't talk," Al said quickly. "Everything will be fine."

Ed blinked again. No... Everything _wouldn't_ be fine. He felt disoriented and confused. He was here with Al, but he was also lying on the floor of the outpost building. He could feel the cold air seeping in through the mostly closed front door, but he could also feel the warmth of his brother's skin against his body.

"Al..." Ed said again, his voice shaking. "Will you be alright?"

"What?" Al asked, taken aback.

"If I go... if I..." He trailed off at the look of utter anguish on his brother's face.

"Don't say it..." Al begged, tears filling his eyes and voice. "You'll be fine. You're... you're Edward Elric... the Fullmetal Alchemist... A stupid car can't stop you..."

Ed tried to shake his head, but the pain wouldn't allow it. "Not anymore, Al. I'm just Professor Elric, the strange old widower who does nothing but teach at the university and research."

He could hear someone calling his name from the other side of the gate, but it was distant—somewhere outside of the outpost building. It sounded like Roy, but Roy wasn't due back for another few days...

Roy...

Ed swallowed. He had to choose. He couldn't stay here with Al if he was to be with Roy, and he couldn't be with Roy if he was to stay with Al. Yet, he was injured in both worlds. Even if he chose one, would he live long enough for it to matter?

Tears of pain and sorrow welled up in Ed's eyes and he said, "Al... you know that I love you, right?" Al swallowed, and nodded silently. "I'm not happy here... You have your family, and I'm alone... I don't want to leave you, but the loneliness hurts too much."

"Brother..." Al whispered painfully, his face crumpling in agony. "Don't talk like that..."

"Forgive me, Al..." Ed choked out. "But, please... please let me go..." It was getting hard to breathe and hard to talk, but he refused to die just yet. He still hadn't picked where he'd end up. For a moment he didn't see Al's face, but the ceiling of the outpost building, then he saw his brother again.

Al closed his eyes and the tears that had been pooling there spilled over and trickled slowly down his cheeks—one sliding all the way to his chin, the other disappearing into Al's light mustache. He opened his eyes and said, "Brother..." Leaning in close, Al whispered, "I love you too..." He paused, then gently kissed Ed on the temple. "I'll miss you so much..."

Ed closed his eyes and felt his own tears, hot against the cold, spill down his cheeks. Opening his eyes, Ed let himself look at his brother one last time. After a moment, Al started to fade from his vision and the ceiling of the outpost building filled his view yet again. The last thing he saw of the other world was his brother shaking his head and whispering, 'no' over and over, then he was gone.

* * *

Roy's heart dropped in his chest when he saw the scene before him. The bodies of Drachma soldiers had been impaled by earth coming up in sharp spikes, and blood stained the white snow. The soldiers that hadn't been impaled had been covered by earth, and only parts of their bodies were visible.

"Ed!" he called urgently, as he started toward the building. He cursed the snow impeding him; then with a growl, Roy snapped his fingers and melted a clear path. Running to the building, he threw open the door and gaped breathlessly at the scene before him.

More men were impaled and squashed throughout the small room. The carnage would have sickened him if he hadn't already experienced the war in Ishbal. As it was, Roy quickly ignored the soldiers in search of what really mattered.

It wasn't hard to find Ed. Blood was smeared from the door to the cold fireplace where Ed was laying on his back, eyes staring at the ceiling. Blood soaked his shoulder, side, and leg. The last few inches of Ed's hair, now messily sprawled out from his head, was saturated in crusty, half-dry blood that looked more black than red.

"No..." Roy whispered in horrified shock. His nose and eyes stinging with emanate tears. His chest constricted and he wondered if he'd be able to find his next breath. How could he go on living if the only thing he had to live for was gone?!

Blinking from the sudden tears, Roy dropped to his knees and crawled the short span to Ed. "No... No, no, no..." It was all he could think of to say. If only he'd gotten here sooner! But how could he have? He'd left Central mere hours after he'd helped Fullmetal... He'd come as soon as he could!

Ed's staring eyes twitched and he blinked, then glanced at Roy. "Roy..." he whispered hoarsely.

"Ed!" Roy cried in relief. He was torn between wanting to hold him and fearing he would injure him even further by doing so.

"It's cold..." Ed murmured, then glanced at the fireplace.

Roy snapped, quickly lighting the logs in the hearth, then got up and said, "I'm going to get the medical supplies. Don't move!" It didn't take long to gather what he had and, after radioing the nearest military camp for help, in mere minutes he was tending to Ed's wounds.

"I won't be going back..." Ed murmured while Roy worked to stop the bleeding. "I'll be here until I die..."

"Don't talk about dying," Roy said. "You aren't going to die." Ed would not die. He wouldn't allow it!

"I've already died," Ed said, and at that Roy froze and looked unblinkingly at Ed. "Twice. Once in the hidden city; the other... just now..."

"What... do you mean...?" Roy asked slowly as he started tending to Ed again, but either Ed didn't hear him, or he was ignoring the question.

"It's strange how life works, isn't it? The first time I wanted to save Al, and this time..." Ed's voice became tight and choked. "This time, I said good-bye to him..." Roy shook his head. He could only guess that Ed was a little delusional, but that was fine. Delusional meant he wasn't dead.

"I wanted to be with you..." Ed whispered. "Isn't that funny? If I would have had time to tell Al, he wouldn't have believed me. Such a strange thing to be in love with a man, don't you think?"

"No..." Roy whispered, a lump forming in his throat, making it difficult to speak. "I don't think so at all."

Ed's lips curved up into a small smile. "Me either..." He was silent for a time as Roy worked, but after a while he said, "Roy?"

"Yes?" Roy glanced toward the door, wondering how long it would take the medics to get there. He'd done what he could, but it was only a short term solution.

"I'm glad you're here..." It was said so faintly, that Roy almost didn't hear it. He bent over and gently pressed his lips against Ed's. "Don't ever leave me again..."

"I won't," Roy promised, kissing Ed on the cheek and on the forehead. "You cause too much trouble when I'm not with you. I just got done observing one of your bigger messes in Central."

"Not my fault..." Ed whispered, then trailed off. Roy watched as Ed blinked rapidly and he could see moisture forming in his eyes. "Will you... Will you be alright without me?"

Roy shook his head quickly, and said huskily, "You're not going anywhere... You... I'm going to be here with you..." He would _not_ let Ed die. He wouldn't...

A tear trickled down from the corner of one of Ed's eyes. "I don't belong here... There's no place for me here..."

"You have a place with _me_!" Roy said urgently, then put his hand to he chest over his heart. "Your place is here... You..."

"Every moment... with you..." Ed said, his words broken and labored. "I don't regret... anything..."

Roy could feel hot tears trickling down his cheeks. This couldn't be happening... He'd just... he'd just helped him, helped Fullmetal... Now, he and Ed were supposed to be together... holding each other, not...

"You're going to be fine..." Roy said through sniffles. "You..."

"Roy..." Ed broke in softly, looking at him through liquid eyes. Roy cut off what he was saying and waited. "Live..." He blinked. Ed was the one who was injured, not him... "Live your life... You're so much more than _this_..." Ed plucked weakly at Roy's civil officer's jacket.

"I..." he began.

A fragile sob broke from Ed and through his tears he pleaded, "Please... You have to go on..."

"No," Roy said firmly, shaking his head. "I can't. Not without you. Don't talk like you're not going to be with me!" He stared fixedly at Ed, studying him intently, not wanting to believe the words Ed was speaking or the painful look Ed was giving him. Leaning in close, Roy gently kissed Ed's cheek and petted his hair. "I won't let you go..." he whispered. "I need you... Please stay..."

Swallowing hard, Ed nodded slightly. "I'll try..."

Roy shook his head. "No. Not 'try'. If you want me to live, then I demand that you live too." He managed to smile a little through his tears. "That's equivalent, don't you think?"

"Yeah..." Ed said, the corner of his lips quirking up. "I suppose it is." He paused, then said, "If I live... does that mean you'll be doing the cooking while I recover?"

Roy shook his head. Only Ed would make a joke at his expense on the verge of death. "Of course not, we'll get take out." Ed's eyes closed and a smile ghosted his features. "But we'll have to move somewhere else," Roy said softly, as tears spilled down his cheeks. He sniffled and swallowed hard before whispering hoarsely, "You know I can't cook..."

He studied Ed's face—the face he'd come to care for so much—and tried to imagine his life without it. A small sob broke from him at the thought, but he tried not to fall apart. He couldn't... not now... With an effort, he held the rough sobs that wanted to escape at bay, leaned over, and gently kissed Ed's lips. Softly... because he didn't want to aggravate any of Ed's injuries... because the medics would be there soon, and they would help him... Of course they would... That's what medics were for...

One of his tears dropped down and mingled with the tears on Ed's face. Roy swallowed and kissed him again. "I love you..." he whispered. He'd loved him for these last few years. Ed was everything that he'd ever wanted, and everything that he needed...

There was no verbal response to his words, but the corners of Ed's lips twitched up into a small, soft smile, and fresh tears trickled from the corners from his eyes. Life didn't always turn out the way that you wanted it to, and you didn't always get what you wanted, but this time... this time, Roy knew in his heart that this time was different. This time everything would be alright.

- **end** -

Well, I hope you enjoyed the story. I really enjoyed writing this story, and as I mentioned in the first chapter, I hadn't really planned on posting this (as I don't always post everything I write), but a few close friends convinced me to do so. I hope it was worth the time to read it.

Thank you to those of you who have been kind enough to leave me comments on this. Even though I wasn't able to answer all of them on an individual level, I hope you'll know that I read and appreciated each and every one.

Finally, I'd like to say thank you to my beta, Masamune Reforged, for the time he took to read over this story.

— Z


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